


Davy's Grey

by Icandigelvis



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Demons, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Single Dad Ryan Bergara, The Ghoul Boys (Buzzfeed Unsolved)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 60,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22374832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icandigelvis/pseuds/Icandigelvis
Summary: Years after Buzzfeed Ryan is living alone with his two children as a single father, his life suddenly taking a hell of a turn when he gets fired from his job while simultaneously stumbling upon an old face he hasn’t seen in years.Ryan had wondered what Shane was getting up to after their falling out. Getting trapped in salt circles among other things apparently.>This is the platonic version of Payne's Grey<
Relationships: Ryan Bergara & Shane Madej
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the **platonic version** of Payne’s Grey. [ Link to romantic version ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20222143/chapters/47923111)
> 
> (I should mention that it’s not intended to read both versions since they will be like 80% the same. While Ryan and Shane will get married and have 69 children in Payne’s Grey they will instead in this one sit in front of the sunset, hold hands and say “You’re my best bro forever, bro”. Plot-wise it will otherwise be similar.)

Their neighborhood was quiet. There was a small playground in the center of the apartment complex, an old but mostly picked-clean pear tree standing proud in the middle. Low-hanging branches had been sawed off to prevent children from climbing the tree.

The sun was covered by clouds, Olivia having placed her small arms on the windowsill, head resting on them. She was watching the clouds pass, not paying any mind to the playing and screaming children on the playground. Ryan stopped his frantic searching for his phone after noticing his daughter. He went up to her with a smile, sliding the terracotta pot to the side on the windowsill. He absently noticed all the leaves were facing the window where the sun would usually be bright and he spun the plant around. His mother always told him to do so. Ryan didn’t know anything about plants but if that’s what she said she was most definitely right.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, patting his daughter’s hair. It was the first day of school, of first grade, and he had proposed to do her hair. Perhaps with a youtube tutorial so he wouldn't fuck it up. Regular ponytails and pigtails, even basic braids he could do but with more complex styles he’d need a bit of help. Olivia had once mentioned she wanted a fish-braid, or fish-fin-braid or something, and Ryan had imagined a hairstyle with a fish-bone or something stuck in it. He’d seen a girl with a bone-shaped clip in her hair once at the supermarket.

Nonetheless, Olivia had quietly said no to a hairstyle today.

Ryan could tell she was nervous.

“Do you think birds get cold? Clouds look like they would be cold,” she asked, still watching the clouds with her large, brown eyes.

“You’re a very smart girl,” Ryan smiled, “It’s very cold the higher you get… But I also think most birds are used to the cold since they fly so much,” he tried. Random questions was a constant with parenthood and many he didn’t know the answer to. He had heard from somewhere that you weren’t supposed to guess things if you didn’t know, but Ryan knew how frustrated his kids got when he simply did not have a clue.

“Aren’t you supposed to be an adult?” Jackson had once asked when his father didn’t know how many countries there were on the earth and Ryan had whispered an “I’m trying” to himself.

“Let’s go!” Jackson suddenly groaned, Ryan turning around to watch his son standing in the hallway, backpack on and his face full of frustration. He chuckled at him and patted Olivia on the back.

“You’ll be fine. Let’s go,” he said, in a much nicer tone than Jackson, and Olivia nodded, walking over to her own backpack with puppies printed onto it. She was usually a lot more vocal and Ryan tried not to notice as Jackson also patted his younger sister on the back, telling her it wasn’t even that scary and that first grade would be easy. He was trying - in his own way - to comfort her, and Ryan turned around so he could grin at the wall while putting on his jacket, so his kids wouldn't see. Jackson tended to get discouraged and embarrassed when Ryan tried complimenting him on things, so he pretended not to notice.

Ryan was about to announce that Olivia would get to sit in the front seat since she was starting school, already prepared with explanations when Jackson would definitely complain. “ _Yes Jackson, I know it’s also your first day of second year, but you got to sit front seat last year when it was your turn. No, Jackson, you’re both my favorites. Yes, Jackson, you can sit in the front on the way home,_ ” etc.

“‘Livia, you can have the front seat so you won’t be as nervous,” he instead heard Jackson say behind him and Ryan couldn’t help gaping at the wall. He quickly collected himself and turned around to smile at his two kids. “Sounds like a good idea. Just like you did last year, Jackson.”

“Sure,” his son shrugged, reaching to unlock the door and jog down the stairs. Olivia seemed a bit more excited as she put on her backpack and sprinted after her brother. Ryan picked up her jacket, which she’d forgotten, rolling his eyes before grabbing his stuff and locking the door behind him.

***-***-***

“I’m really sorry Mr. Bergara, but this is the choice the company have taken. I wish it was different but this is the situation we’re in and we’re unfortunately having to cut back.”

Ryan was staring at Mr. Hunter’s little statue of a golf player on his desk, some award he’d won in 2020. The room was clad in dark brown wallpaper, a mahogany deks, mahogany bookshelves and fucking mahogany chairs. Ryan wondered what his boss would say if he said “the shit-brown office” aloud.

But Ryan’s eyes were tired, his legs numb and his heart in his stomach.

“So I’m fired,” he said, his voice sounding out of place in the otherwise silent office. He could hear people talking and laughing outside the office, and the old printer out there working full-time.

“Unfortunately we have to let you go, Mr. Bergara.”

“At least call me Ryan,” Ryan muttered and he heard his boss - well, former boss - chuckle lightly.

“I’m sorry Ryan, I wanted to make it feel more official.”

“I guess I should’ve known when you called me Mr. Bergara when I first entered,” Ryan said, his hand sliding over his head in defeat. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Being an editor in California wasn’t the easiest market to compete in, especially with all the new, recently graduated students who knew more about the most recent technology..

The weather had cleared up when he exited his now former workplace; backpack on his shoulder. At least he wasn’t carrying a fucking box with a cactus and a framed picture of his mother like in the movies. Sure, he might very well have both of those things in his office, but his boss had given him to the end of the week to come and collect his belongings.

Ryan was already thinking through his rent plan, how he could time grocery shopping with when his last payment would come in. He’d also have to give up those secondhand sneakers he’d found on Facebook Marketplace.

He tried, he really tried not to feel sorry for himself.

Ryan went home with a feeling of half-assed motivation to polish and rewrite his old resume. He had been working at the radio station for a good three years. Guess he thought it would be more permanent than that.

A couple years before that he’d had his own radio show, first a podcast and later a live streaming on 104.7 FM. It wasn’t a popular channel and he eventually had to give it up. Ryan still had the plastic sign for the radio show in his room. It had been a continuation on his show that started while he was working in Buzzfeed, now known as simply Buzz. Then he’d gotten a job on another radio station to edit their material, and three years later now here he was, driving home in the middle of the day.

It was strange to be home at his apartment at a time when he usually wasn’t supposed to be. Especially with his kids not being present.

Ryan called his mother. He didn’t want to cry but it instantly started as he heard his mother’s voice, her soft “ _Oh Ryan_ ” so familiar. He missed her too much.

“I’m not,” he tried, sniffling, “I’m not crying because of the dumb job, I’m crying because I don’t know what I’ll do. Oh my god, what if I can’t find anything, what if me and the kids become homeless,” he cried.

His mother comforted him, insisting he was overreacting. “I know it’s not what you want, Ryan, baby, but you will always be welcome in our house. You know how I beg you and the kids to come over all the time,” she said, her smile evident in her voice.

“But I don’t want to move to Salt Lake City,” he cried and she laughed.

Just an hour later he had cleaned himself up, taken a warm, self-pitying shower and made a jelly sandwich. Taking a seat by his kitchen table Ryan opened his laptop to do what he had planned to do earlier; to get his resume up to date and immediately go job searching.

***-***-***

He couldn’t sleep that night.

Usually he was at least a bit exhausted from working and perhaps going to the gym, but since he had fallen asleep on the couch earlier he now felt restless. His kids had both brushed their teeth after a dinner of lasagna Ryan had for once had time to make on his own, at least with what they had at home. Butterfly pasta worked well enough instead of lasagna sheets; at least his kids didn’t complain about it. “ _Butterfly lasagna,_ ” Olivia had said.

He hadn’t told them. About his job. He first planned to perhaps let at least Jackson know, and to explain that everything would be fine. But then Ryan never got around to it. He knew it was because he didn’t have the courage. Perhaps they were too young to understand, but it still hadn’t really sunk in.

It was now 02:33.

Carefully climbing out of bed Ryan quietly dressed and then left the apartment. He jotted down on the notepad in the kitchen that he was out but that they could call him if anyone happened to wake up and need him for something. Both kids seemed pretty worn out from the first day of school so Ryan doubted anyone would wake up.

The beach was only a couple minutes ride away, and he parked his car in the almost empty parking lot. He walked out onto the beach, his jacket tight around him. It wasn’t especially cold but the wind was strong. To his right he could see some guy exercising far, far away, jogging by the edge of the beach.

Considering the Monday it was, Ryan was surprised by the faraway noise of music and parties, perhaps also bars and clubs open. Then again it was a long time since he was out this late on any day of the week really. Being a single dad took up most if not all of his time usually. A couple times it had seemed like Ryan’s friends would bring up the subject of him dating, but they never did nor did they bring up his ex wife and he was glad. He had made a profile of some internet dating site a couple months ago, when he felt especially lonely. But he never even finished his profile because he couldn’t come up with a good ‘About Me’ introduction.

Ryan looked down at a plastic wrapper passing him in the wind, wondering if he should take a seat on the beach. The sand looked dry and he reached down to pat it. Cold, but dry. So he sat down with a sigh, the sky now only partly cloudy, the moon appearing as if to greet him.

The ocean was calm in front of him, the waves dark. White foam was forming where they crawled up onto the beach and a flock of birds passed far, far away over the water. Ryan watched their reflection in the ocean, wondering if they actually were cold or not.

A sudden scream had Ryan freezing up on the spot, hastily turning to the right in a delayed reaction. It had sounded like a man, yelling in agony. There had been people yelling and hollering here and there from the streets, people in a party mood; but this scream was different. To Ryan’s right, however, was no bar or club, but an old boat house or storage hall. The windows to the building were nailed shut so Ryan couldn’t see if any light came from the inside. The small pier that was built outwards a couple metres into the ocean was lit up with a couple street lights around the abandoned building.

Ryan waited a second, heart beating loudly in his ears as he started imagining scenarios of guns going off, more screaming, anything.

And just less than a minute later another scream was heard. Ryan had been waiting for it this time and successfully did not jump. The scream, definitely a grown man’s voice, ended in a wail and Ryan quickly got to his feet. It sounded like someone was actually hurt.

With his eyes scanning the large wooden building Ryan carefully walked closer. At least the sand made his steps near completely soundless.

The house looked worn down, a dark grey paint covering the facade, perhaps faded with time from another color. There was graffiti and spots of removed graffiti on the door and Ryan unknowingly held his breath as he crept closer.

There actually seemed to be lights on inside, he noticed. While the windows were shut with something from the inside, the door let some light escape around the frame. Ryan hadn’t really paid attention to the building when he arrived at the beach, or any other time he’d been here. He just assumed it was closed down and locked shut. Whoever owned it was probably not around anymore or couldn’t care less about it. Perhaps it had once been used as some sort of marina or storage for fishermen.

“-to quiet down, for fucks sake, Finn!” Ryan suddenly heard someone yell, raising their voice in obvious frustration or anger. Ryan leaned closer to the door. The voice had cracked and Ryan instantly imagined kids messing around. But the voice of the person yelling earlier… Ryan was sure it was someone grown up, not a child.

“Tie him harder, I’ve got your back, Finn!” Someone else yelled, a girl this time.

 _‘Tie him harder’?_ Ryan’s face made a horrified scowl, imagining some teens beating up a homeless old man. Or perhaps it was like one of those cases where teens accidentally killed someone and wasn’t sure what to do with the body. Ryan vaguely remembered reading about a case like that in the news recently. Or perhaps it was from a tv series, he wasn't completely sure.

But what if someone was being tortured? Or threatened? Or kidnapped?

He should call the cops, Ryan immediately realized. Even if it was just a prank or some kids messing around with… something, they were clearly not supposed to be in the building.

Quietly walking backwards so he wouldn’t be heard, Ryan then fished his phone out of his pocket.

“911 what’s your emergency?”

“Hi, uh, I’d like to anom-anonymously report some disturbance by West Beach point, by the small pier. There’s someone screaming inside the old grey building,” he hurriedly whispered on the phone.

The lady followed up with some questions, clearly not taking it too seriously. Perhaps because Ryan wanted to be anonymous. Or perhaps she was just tired.

Eventually she said there was someone on the way and hung up. From what he knew dispatch personnel usually tried keeping people on the line until police arrived, so considering she didn’t Ryan knew she hadn’t taken it too seriously. Or perhaps it was her last day before a vacation or something.

Just a couple seconds after he hung up another loud wail escaped from inside the house. This time the hairs on Ryan’s neck rose as he… somehow found the voice familiar.

Was it someone he knew?

“Fuck,” Ryan cursed silently to himself. He couldn’t just stand there, he told himself. At least… he could try peeking through the keyhole.

Something, a loud clang was heard inside, Ryan flinching. It sounded like something large being thrown, metal clanking afterwards.

Ryan pulled on the handle, ready to run the opposite way if he was walking in on a fucking murder or something. Hopefully it was just kids messing about.

A face, just inches from the door, of complete and utter horror was what met him as he opened the door. It was a teenager, her hair a mess behind her as she was standing completely still, arm in the air.

Like she had been running.

And then just… froze in time.

Ryan stared back into her fear-struck eyes, then he noticed how her hair was also still flying behind her, not falling back down, stuck in the air. She was literally frozen in mid-run, as if someone had pressed pause on a remote.

Ryan opened the door further, his mind not completely catching up with what he was seeing. But there, two other teens, two guys, one close to the floor where he had fallen while running, probably on his own two feet considering one of his shoelaces were untied. His Adidas cap was floating in the air behind him, like it was hanging from an invisible wire.

 _‘Don’t faint,’_ Ryan thought to himself. _‘Breathe.’_

The air was stiff and dusty around him. Ryan breathed heavily as his gaze continued into the large warehouse-sort-of room. There was graffiti inside as well, on old crates and shelves around the walls. And under one of the low hanging lightbulbs was someone Ryan recognized.

A tall shape with his head hung low, his hair messy and wearing a dirty jean jacket .

Shane fucking Madej.

Ryan didn’t realize he’d spoken his name aloud until said person looked up, his eyes meeting Ryan’s. He was standing up, busy removing pieces of rope from his wrists. The sound Ryan had heard must’ve been the chair lying beside him on the floor, pieces of rope still tied to one of the wooden legs.

The scene would’ve been unexplainable to Ryan if it wasn’t for the salt-circle at Shane’s feet, just large enough for a chair to fit inside it. But the trap wasn’t complete, at least not any longer; one of the sides of the circle had salt spread outwards, as if someone had blown on it with a blowdryer. The trap wasn’t complete.

The last time Ryan had seen Shane was years ago. He’d kept a bit of an eye on his social media, which hadn’t been too active. Ryan had no idea what Shane had been up to since.

Getting trapped in salt circles, amongst other things, it seemed.

“Great, more humans,” someone suddenly said behind Ryan who quickly spun around, stumbling backwards, almost falling into one of the statue-like teens.

It was a suited man, his tie bright red inside his jacket. He smiled at Ryan, the human tensing at the look.

“Are,” Ryan started, glancing at Shane over his shoulder, then back at the man, “Are you also a demon?”

“Oh?!” The man exclaimed, clearly surprised, his eyes opening wide. He removed his hands from his pockets to clap them together, laughing. He looked like the typical douchebag salesman. He even had a gold watch.

“This one knows?” he asked, now looking at Shane over Ryan’s head.

“He’s a bit educated on the matter, yes,” Shane said, his voice sounding rough.

Ryan spun back around, then decided to back up so he only had a wall behind him. He looked back and forth between the two men, waiting for someone to say something else. But all they did was stare quietly at each other, as if having a silent conversation.

“What the hell is this, Shane?” Ryan hissed, gesturing wildly to the teens. His heart was beating loudly in his chest, and the end of his sentence echoed in the large room.

Shane didn’t reply immediately and instead red tie did.

“Teenagers being up to no good, right? And here they are, ready to run straight to the police _you_ clearly called,” the guy said, gesturing to Ryan, “and big bad evil demons will be revealed to the ant colony known as humanity.”

Red tie walked up to the girl. As he raised his hand to stroke her cheek Ryan held his breath.

“Don’t touch her,” Shane was the one to say, taking a couple steps towards the suited man, over the broken salt circle. He spun his head towards Shane and Ryan couldn’t contain his gasp at the sight. The suited man’s eyes were red, completely red.

“Don’t fight me, _Madej_.”

Red tie said the last name almost mockingly. “Plus, these kids tied you up, trapped you in a salt circle and threw holy water in your face, _prietenul meu_.”

“I don’t care. Get lost,” Shane said, not backing down.

 _“Ce?_ Is it that human? Because you know him?” he asked, gesturing to Ryan. Shane didn’t even turn his head, but Ryan could feel the air grow colder. Like cold static filled the room.

“Get lost,” Shane repeated, his voice monotone and emotionless. Ryan carefully took another step back.

“I. Am. Hungry, _prietenul meu,_ ” red tie said, breathing heavily between the words. His speech was different, a little sluddered. Ryan realized why as he saw the elongated tongue fall out from between his lips.

“Get lost, _Ukobach_. I won’t say it again,” Shane hissed, his voice almost a growl. Ryan swallowed. The fuck was he doing in the middle of a demon standoff at probably three in the morning or something.

Red tie, Ukobach, bent forwards, as if to get on all fours, ready to fight. But then he suddenly stopped, pausing, as if thinking it over. Shane just stood still. Ukobach then carefully straightened up, his appearance growing back into a human-one. Ryan hadn’t even noticed the way his red eyes had grown in size in a bizarre way until they now shrunk back to a normal human size.

Shane on the other side was looking more tense, his fists clenched at his sides. He stood still but his eyes were looking between the teens and the demon in front of him.

“You know what. No,” a voice suddenly said and Ryan glanced over just in time to watch Ukobach turn to him instead, body twisting before leaning forwards as if to sprint. Ryan almost closed his eyes, bracing himself.

The demon didn’t have time to pounce, however, as Shane was on him in less than a second, holding him against the wall, pale hands around his throat.

The earlier dead silent room was now filled with sounds, the two demons growling loudly, Ukobach attempting to push Shane off. He tried clawing on Shane’s jacket, his suit ripping as he fought for power. Shane seemed to be winning, he was certainly physically larger than the other.

Then Ukobach released a low hissing, similar to that of a rattlesnake, and Ryan’s eyes widened at the sound.

“Ryan!”

The human only had a second to react before he felt something slam into him, something he couldn’t see. There was nothing in front of him but it felt like something or _someone_ was suddenly pulling on his inner organs, his heart. Pulling it down, towards the ground. Like his body was filled with lead all at once, weighing him down.

Ryan screamed in pain, falling to his knees, holding a hand over his chest. It didn’t stop, just got more intense by the second. He felt like his nerves were on fire. Laying down, as if the floor was a magnet pulling his chest closer, his eyes watered. The pain made him forget to breathe. The pulling came beyond the dirty floor of the house, as if something was invisibly dragging his body downwards, further, deeper than the ground.

Why the fuck did he have to come here, a small voice in the back of his mind asked.

Snarling and growling was heard above him and Ryan weakly tilted his head up, the cold stone floor scraping his face, to see masses of darkness flying above him, swirling like hurricanes towards the ceiling and then around each other. One was a dark red, and something was dripping from it, like glistening oil. The other, however, was faster and larger somehow. More mass to it. It was almost white at the head where it flew in the air, like a shapeless dragon made from black smoke, and Ryan just knew it was Shane.

The colour was complex, something Ryan had never seen before but couldn’t remember the second he took his eyes off it. Like it was made of colors that humans weren’t supposed to see. To him it looked pitch black, some faded green, with an inner white light; crackling as it moved. Like lightning in storm clouds.

Then Ryan saw them; the two demons there between the smoke. Shane was still gripping Ukobach tightly, holding him up into the air. The red demon yelling loudly as Shane bit his teeth tightly together.

It looked like they stood at the center of a hurricane.

And then a crack was heard, like someone snapping a bamboo branch.

The smoke seemed to stop, coming to a halt and then falling to the floor. It curled around before vanishing, fading out into the air. As if a gust of clear wind erupted in the middle of the room, wiping all traces of secrets and sinful demon shapes away.

Ukobach was silent as Shane dropped his body onto the floor, his neck twisted backwards in an odd way.

Shane took a deep breath, his arms hanging at his side as he collected himself. Just a moment later he straightened, turning to look at Ryan. The human had sat up, a hand on his chest where the pain had been the worst, now just a memory.

“Ryan,” Shane called, his voice rough. He cleared his voice, looking exhausted.

“What?” Ryan asked, coughing as well, his throat feeling dry as sand. The excruciating pain in his chest was gone but he felt tired, close to just dropping onto the floor to nap right then and there.

“You need to exorcise him,” Shane said, grabbing one of the legs of the demon. “I can’t do it, I’m too weak. You need to do it the bible way.”

Shane accidentally pulled off one of Ukobach’s shiny shoes in his hurry, throwing it to the side in frustration and grabbing onto Ukobach’s leg instead.

The demon’s socks were bright red. Ryan was starting to notice a theme.

“Why can’t you do it?” Ryan breathed, managing to stand up on his shaky legs. He held his arms out to catch himself in case of him losing his balance.

“Because I’m a demon, Ryan. I’ll exorcise myself too,” Shane said, and no matter the severity situation Ryan could hear the humor in his voice.

“I’m too tired to do it my way,” he then added, looking a little somber. “Sorry, Ryan.”

The human simply nodded, unsure what to do with his hands. He hadn’t seen Shane in so long, this was so fucking weird.

“Get your phone out,” Shane instructed after a second, “There’s a legit exorcism prayer on Wikipedia. The one to Saint Michael. Google it,” he breathed as he picked up the package of _Great Value Iodized Salt_ , completing the circle again around the demon he’d now placed inside. Shane threw the box on the ground afterwards, and stuck his finger in his mouth, as if he had been stung on the salt.

Ryan’s fingers were shaking as he tried typing out ‘Exorcism prayer to Saint Michael’, accidentally typing _‘exercise prayer to ain’t Michael’_ but Google still knew what he wanted.

“Bless Google,” Ryan absently whispered to himself in the midst of panic as he opened the link.

“Shane? T-there’s two versions! Which one should I do? The 1890’s version or the 1902’s version? The newer one is shorter,” Ryan asked, his fingers now sweating as he tried zooming in on the text on his display. He didn’t have his glasses with him.

“Newer one is fine, I think,” Shane shrugged.

“Fuck okay, should I do it in Latin or English?”

“You’ll probably butcher the Latin but go with it,” Shane said. Ryan looked up to find him crouched by one of the teens, still frozen in time. Shane picked up a plastic bottle, hissing as steam rose from his palm where he held onto the plastic. Shane grunted in pain but kept his hold, turing to Ryan.

“Here,” he called and Ryan caught it without thinking, his mind catching up a second too late. He dropped the bottle to the floor, stepping back. If it had burned Shane, why would he throw it at him?

“It’s holy water,” Shane said as if Ryan was yet again stupid, and Ryan just released a weak “oh” as he picked it up. It didn’t sting at all, it was just a little wet on the outside.

“Okay, you good?” Shane asked, wiping his hands on his jeans. They were clearly in a hurry here, and Ryan was going straight on adrenaline. “I’m sorry you have to do this, Ryan, but I kinda can’t,” he said, actually appearing worried.

Ryan felt like someone had suddenly thrown a sword into his hand and then pushed him out into the cage where they would soon release lions. His legs were still undoubtedly shaking, ready to sprint him out of here if something went wrong. He glanced at the salt circle which certainly wasn’t a completely round circle but at least full and complete around the dead demon. Was he dead? Unconscious?

“He might wake up,” Shane said, as if reading Ryan’s mind. “Just splash him a little and continue,” he said.

“Okay,” Ryan said, bracing himself. “Okay, shit fuck, okay…” He glanced down at his phone.

 _“Princeps gloriosissime-”_ he started but was quickly interrupted by a loud yell. Startled Ryan looked up to find Shane glaring at him, bent over and holding two hands over his ears.

“ _After_ I leave, Ryan! Fuck! I didn’t know you wanted me dead that bad,” Shane said, clearly upset. Ryan thought he saw something faintly start to manifest on the other’s head, two long shapes. Ryan still knew what it was.

“S-shit, sorry,” he gulped. He pressed his lips tightly together, and no matter the horrifying situation altogether he couldn’t help but have to push down a small smile. It was… a little funny.

Shane rolled his eyes before he opened the door and exited, horns gone again. Ryan waited a moment, only now hearing the loud beating of his heart in the quiet room. He hoped to God that the cops didn’t arrive right at this fucking moment. He’d definitely be charged with at least five different felonies.

 _‘Better get it over with then, Bergara’_ , he told himself.

Calming himself with a deep inhale and exhale he then started reading the lines on his phone, one by one. Glancing at his battery percentage in the upper corner he noticed it was thankfully still close to 100% charged. It felt like years ago since he woke up in the middle of the night to visit the beach.

 _“Princeps gloriosissime cae-carlestis militiae, sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in p-proelio adversus principes et… potestates, adversus mundi,_ ” Ryan chanted, having to pause to scroll down on his phone.

_“Rectores tenebrarum harmu-no, harum… contra spiritalia nequitiae, in caelestibus.”_

As he reached the second verse he heard a loud groan in front of him, pausing briefly to glance at the demon in the circle, now moving to sit up.

“You fucker,” Ukobach groaned, his engorged, red eyes staring straight at Ryan where he sat, positioned like a child with his legs spread out, supporting himself with his arms. His neck was still twisted.

Even as a grown man Ryan could admit it was one if not the most horrifying things he’d ever seen. It looked like it came straight out of some sort of new CGI-packed gore horror movie.

Ryan swallowed and looked back down at his phone, continuing with the sentence. _“-pedibus nostris, ne ultra v-valeat captivos tenere homines- “._

The demon groaned louder, as to over-voice him but Ryan continued, the prayer clearly taking effect. The proof of that made the small bit of courage in him grow.

Ryan took a step forward while he was still reading, stumbling over the latin here and there. Twisting the cap off the bottle with one hand he then briefly looked up to splash holy water forwards in the direction of Ukobach. It was instantly effective and the demon screeched in pain, trying to dry it off his face and hands, steam fizzing from the skin as if it was scalding hot water.

 _“Al naibii de om!”_ Ukobach yelled, Ryan once again ignoring him. Whatever language the demon was speaking, Ryan didn’t speak it.

Not that Ryan spoke Latin, either.

Nonetheless, as he reached the end of the prayer he raised his voice with the last sentence, the wailing of the demon proof of the power the words held. Perhaps it was also because Ryan believed in it, that it worked. He faintly recalled Shane talking about that, years ago. _The power of belief._

 _“-et ligatum mittas in abyssum, ut non seducat amplius gentes!_ Amen!” he finished, taking a deep breath after the last holy word left his lips, staring at the demon in front of him.

He hadn’t really noticed the quick change of the creature, Ryan obviously busy reading, but Ukobach was now crouched forwards, his suit having ripped off at parts, two red, sharp horns sprouting from his head. His eyes were wide open, still abnormally large as they stared at Ryan, looking like they were ready to pop. The demon’s hands were shaking in front of him.

Silence.

Then he suddenly screamed, this time high pitched and wailing, no longer sounding like a grown man, nor a rattlesnake.

The noise echoed in the small room and the demon’s eyes seemed to shine with fear, the sound ringing in Ryan’s ears.

Then, as his voice grew to the highest octave, Ukobach exploded.

As in, literally exploded.

Ryan could only try to jump back. He stilled, however, as he felt something wet splash his entire body.

The human spit onto the floor several times, trying to get whatever it was out of his mouth. He ran his hands over his face but his palms were also warm and sticky with… whatever it was. He tried not to think about it, convincing himself not to throw up. But looking down at his hands however he only saw red. Blood.

With horror Ryan also noticed he’d dropped his phone, the screen cracked where it lay on the ground.

“Fucking fuck, shit!” Ryan cursed. All the triumph he thought he’d feel after a successful exorcism wasn’t there, and now he stood in a room with blood all over him, a blown out salt circle, three also slightly-blood-splashed-frozen-in-time-teenagers and a cracked phone.

“Shit,” he cursed again, picking up his phone and bolting over to the door. He carefully peeked his head outside but saw no one, and luckily no cop cars up on the parking lot. Looking the other way he saw clear footsteps in the sand. Holding his hands around himself, still trying to dry the blood off of him, attempting to not think about it, he wandered over to the base of the pier. Under the wooden structure there was a metre or two of space and leaning against a beam, almost hidden from sight, was Shane.

“You’re looking good. Looks like it worked?” the demon asked, smiling weakly. He was holding onto his side, as if he was hurt there.

“You could’ve told me he would've fucking exploded, Shane,” Ryan hissed, unknowingly stomping his foot in anger. It didn’t have much effect on sand, though. No loud thump.

“I’m sorry, I truly didn’t know that. Must’ve been the newer version of the prayer then,” Shane said, groaning as he struggled to sit up more properly.

Ryan paused, looking him over.

“Uh, are you okay?” he asked, unsure of what to do. The wind coming from the ocean was cold, and Ryan suddenly longed for his hot shower at home.

Home.

Shit, his children. He stared at the horizon where it was still dark. His phone told him it wasn’t too long til sunrise though. Maybe two, three hours at best.

“I’m fine,” Shane replied.

“What about the kids in there?” Ryan asked, gesturing to the house. Shane closed his eyes, seemingly to go to sleep, but frowned a second later.

“Did you hear me? What do we fucking do?” Ryan hissed, a feeling of panic starting to grow up his spine, and Shane opened one eye in annoyance.

“I’m trying, Ryan. You’re not helping.”

“What are you going to do?” Ryan insisted, taking a step closer.

“I’m trying wipe their memories, but… it’s difficult,” he admitted. “I’m not at my full strength. Fuck,” Shane cursed, closing his eyes and probably trying again, considering the look on his face.

The words left Ryan before he could think it over any longer, because faraway in the distance Ryan could hear the noise of a police siren. “Shane, can you… can I help? With the s-soul thing?”

“I thought you didn’t fuck with demons,” Shane said, eyes still shut.

“Fucking hell, Shane. Now’s not the time. The police are coming- quickly, just do it,” Ryan breathed. He knew his fingerprints and DNA were all over the scene in there.

The police siren got closer, Ryan now spotting the blue and red lights of one unit driving towards the pier.

“No,” Shane grunted.

“No? Fucking- fuck off!” Ryan hissed. “Now, Shane!”

“Okay, fuck. Get closer,” Shane said, breathing for air as if he’d been underwater. Ryan stepped closer and Shane yanked him down onto the ground. The human fell across his legs, trying to quiet his surprised yell a bit too late. Struggling onto his knees Ryan sat up, and then Shane grabbed his two wrists, eyes still closed.

“Trust me, Ryan. Let me in,” Shane whispered, Ryan staring at his face in the dark. There were street lamps up above them, placed all the way out to the end of the pier. The light slipped between some of the wooden boards and Ryan observed the pattern on Shane’s focused face. He looked pale in the dark, but hadn’t he always been that, Ryan wondered.

The demon grunted in front of him, as if trying to get Ryan to concentrate. The human closed his own eyes, trying to ignore the police car that had now clearly stopped in the parking lot. Ryan could hear the sirens being turned off, and two car doors opening and closing.

And then something was nudging the edge of his mind, perhaps a thought or memory he didn’t want to think about. Something he refused to remember because it would make him feel sick. Like that one time he’d watched a raccoon get squished under a car before him on the freeway.

But, was it a memory? The bad feeling?

 _Let me in_ , Ryan.

It wasn’t a memory of his own, nor was it a thought. It was Shane, his consciousness reaching into Ryan’s mind. Towards his soul with his own. His own? Did Shane have a soul? Probably not… Ryan thought.

The human had to physically ignore his instincts to push the foreign feeling away and instead reached towards it, trying to remember the memory which wasn’t a memory, trying to think about the thought that wasn’t a thought. He felt something fill him, like a cold breeze. He didn’t feel full or anything, and there was no pain. But Ryan definitely felt watched, like someone was carefully observing him in the darkness of his closed eyes, something large.

Then he felt a sort of sleepiness fall over him, like a mist creeping over his mind, trying to move undetected in front of Ryan’s eyes. He saw it, but he let it. He now knew it was Shane. He tried imagining it, the smoke again. Perhaps it was crawling around him on the sand floor, perhaps it crept over his skin, eating away at Ryan’s very being, his soul. He didn’t dare to open his eyes.

Cold. It was cold, dark and foggy but slightly, slightly sandy green, in some way. 'Davy’s Grey,' Ryan absently thought.

Never in a million years had he thought he would let a demon do this. He tried remembering when he found out that demons were truly real. How mad but mostly terrified he had been. Ryan didn’t want anything to do with them.

“Ryan,” someone gently whispered and the human slowly blinked his eyes open. The ocean was before him, it’s waves pushed up onto the shore between the wooden beams of a pier. The water curled and then crawled back into the ocean, back into the black water continuing far, far out.

He felt cold, bringing his arms around himself, realizing Shane had let go of his wrists.

“It worked, thanks,” Shane said, smiling a bit. Ryan glanced over him, now feeling completely calm compared to before. Had it been an hour? A minute?

He then noticed his clothes, looking down to gaze over his body and hands, now spot-free from blood.

“Should have you over at parties where there’s red wine and white carpets,” he absently mumbled and Shane laughed aloud, but still hushed. So they probably weren't alone yet.

“How’d you do it?” Ryan asked, looking up at him again. The demon was still leaning back against a beam, again holding onto his side. His eyelids were hanging low and the shadows under his eyes dark.

“The teens ran right into the arms of the cops, as far as I can tell. It’s spotless clean inside apart from a salt circle, a bottle of water blessed by some priest- without your fingerprints, don’t worry,” Shane added at Ryan’s look, “and no trace of any real demons or subpar exorcisms being performed-”

“Hey, my exorcism was great,” Ryan hissed, still keeping his voice low so any police sneaking around wouldn’t hear them.

“It was,” Shane smiled, surprising Ryan with suddenly seeming serious. “I didn’t really hear it from over here but it almost got me too,” he said.

“Shit, really?” Ryan asked, conflicted between being proud of himself and worried for the other. Worried for a demon, Ryan thought. If only younger Ryan could see him now.

“It’s because you believe,” Shane said.

“I guess-” Ryan started but was interrupted by Shane abruptly slapping a hand over his mouth. Ryan was about to lean back and slap his hand away when he saw the light from a flashlight move over the sand to his right.

He only had time to whisper a weak “Fuck” before ee was suddenly manhandled towards Shane. The demon grabbed onto him, pulling him into his lap, the two facing each other as Ryan sat on Shane’s legs. The human was too scared to care about the intimate position, just holding his own mouth shut as he waited for a police officer to appear to their right, asking what the fucking they were doing. Perhaps he’d draw a gun on them. Ryan really didn’t want to get shot at the end of all this.

Ryan briefly wondered if Shane was going to kiss him. With the position it certainly looked like it. Perhaps to make it seem like they were simply hiding to make out?

“Trust me,” Shane instead whispered and Ryan held his breath. But Shane simply grabbed his two wrists again, whispering something that sounded like latin and “umbra caecus” and suddenly the breeze around them felt harsher than before.

Ryan shivered from what felt like small shocks of static, but couldn’t care about anything else than the short but fit officer who then stepped around the corner, shining his flashlight right at them. Ryan felt like his heart was stuck in his throat, beating loudly in his ears.

There he sat, in Shane Madej’s lap on a beach in the middle of the night, with an officer most likely about to arrest them. At least he hopefully didn’t have any blood left on his face.

“Jones?” Someone called far away and the police officer moved his flashlight around, chewing gum in his mouth.

“Ryan,” Shane suddenly, very quietly whispered in his ear, having carefully leaned up to get closer, “Don’t meet his eyes. He won’t see us.”

Ryan quickly flickered his eyes down to the officer’s chest, blinking. The police seemed to pause for a second but then straightened up. “Nothing down here!”

Ryan hadn’t realized he had tried to hold his breath as the officer spoke, replying back to his colleague right in front of them without seeing them, until he inhaled as the officer disappeared.

“Jesus Christ, man,” Ryan weakly whispered back, barely audible.

“Amen,” Shane chuckled. Ryan gave him a look.

They waited for another minute before Ryan awkwardly climbed off Shane’s lap, dusting off his jeans.

They sat in silence for a while after that. The police eventually left with three scared-shitless teenagers, Ryan peeking at the scene from their hide-spot by the pier. The police officers seemed tired; perhaps it wasn’t their first time running into kids trying to summon demons only to get scared of nothing. Well, seemingly nothing…

“Wait, did they try to summon you? Or how did this all start?” Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Shane sighed, still sat against the pillar, arms resting on his knees. “They were searching for a demon they’d heard a rumour about. From what I understood they were actually looking for a female with a hundred piercings… but I guess flicking holy water on everyone does fish one out eventually..”

“So what, they just lured you down here after that?” Ryan asked, even more confused.

“No, I was already here, sleeping actually. They stumbled inside, whining about not finding any demons. And just happened on one. Kids and their luck these days,” Shane said, shrugging. “Long time no see, by the way,” he then said, a small smile on his face. They were still shadowed in the dark night and Ryan unknowingly shivered.

Something in that story didn’t really add up, but it was clear Shane wanted to change the subject.

“Yeah, hi,” Ryan cleared his throat. “What were you doing here?” He asked instead, worried he already knew the answer, biting his lip.

“I was trying to rest,” Shane said, shrugging.

Ryan didn’t know what to reply to that.

From what he’d heard, and last seen on late night Facebook-stalking sessions, Shane was still in LA but working as a freelancer photographer here and there. He hadn’t updated his social media with locations though, and since the instagram-period of the 2010’s had passed Ryan hadn’t known too much. They might no longer be friends but he was still curious. He felt like that was fair. They used to be close, after all.

Shane seemed to know what Ryan was thinking anyway.

“I’m not really… completely homeless in the sense that I only sleep on the street, because I don’t. I couch surf a lot, and sleeping under the naked sky is definitely not too bad, as long as the weather’s nice.”

“I see,” Ryan said slowly. He wasn’t about to be the asshole who went, in the most condescending tone possible, ‘Oh my god, no, poor sweet Shane. Are you okay? I’m so sorry, oh no, how bad for you.’

So Ryan didn’t say anything.

He glanced out toward the ocean again, and the night sky was definitely getting brighter. There was a large ship far, far away on the horizon.

“Go home, Ryan,” Shane said, as if reading his mind. “You have a family to look after, right?”

“I do,” Ryan said as he stood up. Yet he felt conflicted.

Shane must’ve noticed because he chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry about me.”

“But you still look… weak and all,” Ryan tried, tilting his cap back to absently scratch at his ear. Shane had used Ryan’s energy or his soul or something to hide the evidence after earlier, but apparently not taken any of it to heal himself. Ryan somehow found that a bit… humble, in an odd way.

“I’ll be fine, I just need rest. Today took a toll on me,” Shane groaned, pushing himself down to lie on the sand. “I’m getting old,” he said with a small smirk and Ryan rolled his eyes, feeling his neck redden. His curiosity was about to get the better of him, because he really wanted to ask for that magic number, but Shane cleared his throat.

“If it’s the same to you I’d like to take a nap now.”

“Do you…” Ryan started, paused but then cursed his nerves. “Do you want to come home with me? Sleep on the couch? Or a mattress?” Ryan asked, forcing it out.

Shane peeked one eye open, glancing at Ryan. Then he closed it and leaned back down.

“Go home, Ryan. To your two kids.”

The human grunted.

“Are you sure? There’s plenty of space, I could cook something, I mean I can’t cook well- you know that. But perhaps a shower would be nice?”

Shane laughed, interrupting Ryan’s ranting. “Goodbye, Ryan.”

A couple seconds passed but then Ryan huffed, shoulder dropping. “Fine. Bye,” he caved in and turned around, heading for his car.

He peered up at the sky as he walked up the beach towards the parking lot. The night had felt unreal, like it was something he’d made up. But it still wasn’t over, the stars above him reminded him. It was still not morning yet.

Ryan fiddled with his keys, glancing down towards the pier more than once. He unlocked his car, tapping his fingers against the car door. Then with a sigh he leaned forwards, closing his eyes as his forehead thumped against the cold metal of his car.

“God damn it, Ryan,” he whispered to himself.

And indeed, the night was not over yet, and he didn’t want the spell of it to go away, not just yet.

He straightened up, cupping his hands around his mouth, and yelled; “Get your fucking ass over here, legs!”

The human wasn’t sure if Shane heard him, a normal person would probably have not, considering the wind and the ocean waves. But a couple seconds later a figure appeared behind the corner where they’d hidden a moment ago. Ryan waved his arm in the air, lazily gesturing for him to come over.

Shane looked like he was considering it for a second, before he started trudging over the beach towards him. Ryan leaned forwards on the car, hands on the roof, chin on his arms, watching the other. It was such a familiar sight but one he hadn’t seen in so long. It was weird how close they had been years ago, and now Shane felt like a stranger to him. Well, not completely, but Ryan sure didn’t feel like he knew him any longer. The Shane he remembered wasn’t the one in front of him.

As he stepped onto the parking lot the demon stopped, looking at Ryan. A single street light was flickering above them, flies buzzing around it.

“You sure? I won’t get offended you know,” Shane said, one hand still holding his side while the other hung uselessly at his side.

Ryan watched him for a second in thought, slowly blinking, before he sighed. He had made his mind up minutes ago, he just didn’t want to admit it to himself.

“Get in,” he said, opening his car door and getting inside. “I know myself; I’d just end up going back here anyway,” Ryan confessed.

“Ryan,” Shane chuckled, his voice warm, and it felt so familiar it stung in Ryan’s chest.

“You’ll always be both curious and stubborn, won’t you?” Shane chuckled. He hadn’t really put up much of a fight, Ryan realized, which probably meant the other really wanted a shower and somewhere nice to sleep. Ryan wondered how much truth lay in Shane’s words of couch surfing. The demon wasn’t exactly a stranger to lying.

The steering wheel felt cold under his hands as he drove them home. Somehow Ryan still didn’t feel the slightest bit tired. The radio was quietly playing classical music in the background, both of them watching the group of teenage girls crossing the street in front of them, stopped at a red light.

“Why were you at the beach?” Shane asked, breaking the silence.

“Just… needed some air. Needed to think,” Ryan replied and the other nodded.

The light turned green.

Neither said anything and soon the short drive was over, Ryan parking the car at his apartment.

“It’s nice. Close to the beach,” Shane said as he got outside, looking around. There were a couple buildings around them but somehow Shane was staring at the one Ryan lived in, glancing at the correct door even.

Ryan narrowed his eyes.

“Did… do you know where I live?” he asked, cautiously staring at his friend.

Shane raised an eyebrow before he realized why Ryan suddenly seemed freaked out.

“Well now I do. I can smell you, all over there,” Shane gestured towards the door.

Ryan blinked, gave Shane one last look before walking up to where Shane had indeed pointed.

“I mean, sure. You could honestly be lying and actually be a stalker, cause I mean what do I know about demons?” Ryan asked himself.

“Well,” Shane started, “I can smell that you’re using Persil washing detergent, and that you’ve probably attempted to paint with nailpolish recently. It’s not that strong though, so I assume that was a while ago.”

Ryan stared at him, mouth slightly open.

Rolling his eyes he turned back to his door, ignoring to comment on that. He put in the code for his apartment building, holding the door open for the other. He took the stairs, not sure why he didn’t take the elevator. Perhaps his unconsciousness didn’t find it sane to share a tiny space with something dangerous. Lizard brain and all.

Ryan paused in front of his front door. Sevel wood blocks in different colors, depicting animals were spelling out Bergara on the door. Ryan had put them up when Jackson was a lot younger, and considering not even one had ever fallen off he was sure it would be a struggle to remove when they finally moved. He’d probably have to repaint the entire door.

Having fished out his keys he stared at then in his hands. Shane was silent behind him and Ryan turned around. Before he could say anything however, Shane spoke.

“Ryan, if you want me to leave, just tell me, man. It’s fine,” he said, head tilted, eyes tired. Shane was still holding his side, but looked like he was trying to appear casual about it.

And wow was that _‘man’_ so nostalgically familiar.

Ryan grunted in annoyance, frowning. He wasn’t sure how to phrase his thoughts.

“I… I do trust you, but…” he licked his lips, making up his mind. “I still want you to promise. A deal with me, promise me- I know you won’t do anything, but still promise me you won’t hurt them,” Ryan said, looking at the floor in semi-shame. He felt like absolute shit having to distrust Shane like this, even if he was a demon. Because Ryan didn’t really think Shane would do anything to hurt them. But old habits were old habits, and demons were creatures from Hell, not heaven or earth. And Ryan would always put his two children first, before anyone, before himself, before the shame of having to ask that of Shane.

Ryan also knew how serious deals were to demons, to Shane. He had a vague memory of Shane arguing and refusing to promise to “ _always hold the door open for Ryan”_ , or something along those lines. It had been a joke from Ryan’s side, but Shane refused. Apparently a promise was like a contract tied to his life, Shane had explained.

Yet, here Shane didn’t hesitate.

“I swear on my name I will never hurt Olivia Bergara or Jackson Bergara,” Shane promised with no pause, and the genuine way he said it had Ryan stumped for a reply. He stared at him for a second, before nodding.

“Thanks, and I’m sorry,” he whispered again and Shane simply shrugged.

Ryan unlocked his door, cleaning his shoes on the mat without thinking about it, a habit by now. Shane followed suit, and in silence they both removed their jackets and shoes.

“I have a mattress in the closet, I’ll set it up in my room. There should be some unopened toothbrushes in the cupboard. Feel free to take a shower too if you want,” Ryan whispered, pointing out his room and then also the bathroom.

Shane nodded, heading over there. Ryan watched his back for a second before catching himself, shaking his head and heading over to his bedroom. There was of course his living room couch, but Ryan would like to… keep an eye on Shane. Mainly, however, he wanted to make sure none of his kids stumbled up in the morning only to see an unknown man sleeping in their living room. Ryan was sure at least Jackson would scream.

Tiredness had finally seemed to reach Ryan for the night. He threw a sheet, a pillow and a blanket onto the mattress on the floor, blinking sleepily. Ryan’s own bed was pretty large, but he wasn’t about to suggest sharing it to Shane. The two had shared beds before when they worked together and visited haunted places, which now felt like centuries ago. But it obviously didn’t feel very appropriate at the moment. Ryan didn’t really know Shane any longer.

 _‘Not sure I ever really did,’_ he gloomily thought to himself.

As he hastily made the other’s bed he realized he could’ve asked for Shane to also swear not to hurt him either, but it hadn’t even crossed his mind. Ryan supposed he still somewhat trusted Shane enough.

He would always put his children above all, though.

Ryan met Shane outside his room, simply gesturing inside before side-stepping him to himself head to the bathroom. He noticed Shane hadn’t showered, but was also kind of thankful. Jackson’s room was wall-to-wall with the bathroom and there was a chance he might wake up from the sound. Shane could shower in the morning, Ryan concluded to himself.

After brushing his teeth and cleaning up Ryan headed back to his bedroom. He didn’t even bother with his cleanser and night cream that one of his friends had gifted him. She had assured him that it was very important and gave amazing results. It certainly didn’t feel that important now, compared to everything that had happened tonight.

Ryan absentmindedly held a hand to his chest, remembering the pain he’d felt from Ukobach’s curse. He felt a sting, some sort of phantom pain still lingering when he thought about it.

“I still kind of feel it, when I think about it,” Ryan said after closing his bedroom door, still holding a hand against his chest. Shane sat on the mattress, legs closed, having swiped a water bottle from the kitchen.

“And it is just that. Because you’re _thinking_ about it and remembering it. ‘ _Believing_ ’ in it, you know,” Shane said and Ryan nodded, thinking it sounded logical. When it came to this stuff he was clueless and Shane could probably convince him of anything.

“Okay,” Ryan weakly replied, rubbing one eye. He looked over at his night shirt he’d thrown on the bed earlier that evening. It was an oversized t-shirt of Ellen Ripley. He didn’t feel like stripping at the moment though, and just shrugged out of his jeans and socks before getting into bed in the shirt he was wearing, just a regular grey one. He could see Shane still sitting on the mattress placed on the floor at the foot of Ryan’s bed. The other side of the room held a dresser with a window above, curtains drawn closed, and the other an old piano.

“Do you play?” Shane asked, gesturing to it.

Ryan shook his head. “It came with the apartment. Jackson loves it, even though it’s really out of tune,” he replied.

“He might not like regular, tuned pianos later then,” Shane said, a small smile on his face.

Ryan gave him a quiet, short exhale of a laugh. Then a yawn followed.

“I’m a little tired,” Ryan admitted, watching Shane stare at the water bottle in his hands. The other slowly nodded.

When Shane looked up Ryan continued; “Please don’t leave before waking me tomorrow.”

“I’ll wake you,” Shane promised.

Ryan took his word for it. He made sure his phone still had it’s alarms on for the morning before placing it on his nightstand. He let himself fall back into his pillows, still only owning two, turning onto his side. A minute or two later he heard the sound of a belt and a zipper, Shane finally getting out of his pants to presumably go to bed.

“Goodnight,” Ryan whispered.

“Night, Ryan,” Shane replied. He rustled around for a moment before it went quiet again, Ryan finally closing his eyes for the night.

Tomorrow, he thought to himself, tomorrow he would properly process it all.

For now, he somehow felt... sated. Like going to the beach and meeting Shane again had somehow been what he needed today to feel satisfied enough to finally sleep. As if that made any sense.

Ryan was sure it didn't really, but for now, sleep felt like the best plan ever.


	2. Chapter 2

“Dad,” someone breathed into his ear.

Ryan frowned, eyes still closed and turned over onto his back. He was dreaming about a talk show or something, blinking awake in confusion, his mind not really catching up yet. The sunlight was barely shining through the blinds of the window, his bedroom still dark.

“What?” he asked, voice rough from sleep, blinking at Olivia who had crawled up onto his bed.

“Dad,” she whispered, her warm breath hitting his face. Ryan grabbed her right knee which was dangerously close to kicking him in the groin in her next step.

“Yes, hun?”

“There’s a man on your floor,” she whispered and Ryan hummed a reply. Then he remembered.

Opening his eyes again he stared eye to eye with his daughter. She smiled expectantly at him so Ryan sat up and yawned. Shane was appearing to still be sleeping, though Ryan was 100% sure he was faking it, perhaps not to scare Olivia who had wondered inside.

“There is indeed a man there,” Ryan said, reaching to check the time on his phone. Forty minutes left until his first alarm would’ve gone off, he noted.

“Do you know him?” She asked, voice still a whisper but not as quiet as before. Ryan chuckled a little, but humored her.

“He’s an old friend. I met him yesterday,” Ryan decided to simply explain. He supposed it wouldn’t be wise to add “ _Dad was also almost killed by a demon yesterday, but then exercised it back to Hell before it exploded and covered dad in blood and mucus.”_

“He looks weird,” she said and Ryan couldn’t hold back his laugh at that.

“That’s not very nice… but it’s a little true,” Ryan grinned, rubbing an eye, feeling like he had a lash stuck in it.

“One of the things we should keep to ourselves?” Olivia asked, tapping her forehead and Ryan smiled, nodding. She hummed, tongue poking out between her lips as she thought. Her hair was a mess, Ryan reaching over to try to brush it with his fingers.

He hadn’t really gotten many hours of sleep and felt like shit. He would definitely take a nap at work.

‘ _Work_ ’, Ryan caught himself, remembering the other thing that had also happened yesterday; _getting fired_.

Well, he definitely had time for a nap. He first needed to get his kids to school, of course. Ryan wondered if today would be a good day to go and pick up his things at the office, or if that would seem desperate. Perhaps he’d give it a day. He had until Friday, after all. Not that his colleagues would throw out his stuff, he liked them enough to know that. The company wasn’t doing too well financially, so he knew he had been fired at least for a logical reason.

“Can I wake him up?” Olivia asked, pushing Ryan’s hands away.

“Sure. But be nice, Olivia,” Ryan said, giving her a look.

She crawled to the edge of the bed and Ryan missed the warmth, sitting up to watch his daughter get off the bed. She paused in front of Shane’s sleeping body, looking up at Ryan again. He nodded and she leaned down to place both hands on his arm.

“Wakey, wakey,” she said, trying to rock him a little. Shane barely moved and Olivia’s hands only scrunched his long-sleeved shirt back and forth. It was a deep orange shirt, thin but knitted, Ryan noted, distracted.

“Mhm?” Shane hummed, feigning waking up.

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bacon,” she sang and Ryan smiled. Shane opened his eyes to meet Ryan’s then rolled over onto his back too.

“Good morning, miss?” he asked, carefully stretching his arms above his head.

Olivia had never been scared of strangers, not even as a young child. Ryan remember it having worried him to death several times, her grandma too. His wife wasn’t around to see Olivia grow up, but Ryan was sure she would be shocked at how unfearful Olivia could be. Jackson had been more commonly reserved as a child, like most kids.

“Good morning,” she replied. “Who are you?”

“My name is Shane. Are you Olivia?” Shane asked, still laying down. His hair was also a mess, strands standing up similar to Olivia.

“Yes!” Olivia replied, as in victory. “Are you old and-and a friend of dad?” she asked, picking up a phone which Ryan assumed to be Shane’s. The demon didn’t even try to take it from her and Ryan snapped a finger at her, pointing for her to drop it.

She carefully put it back on the carpet as Shane replied with a “Yes.”

Ryan was about to correct her, that Shane wasn’t “old” but an “old friend” but realized he probably was. He never really learned Shane’s age, but he knew he was older than he looked. That the demon inside was older than the body.

Ryan tried not to think about it. His issues with the moral of it all had essentially been what had made him and Shane drift apart.

“Do you like breakfast?” she asked, then looked at Ryan with hopeful eyes.

“Are you cooking breakfast?” Shane asked, sitting up. Olivia giggled, jumping over to the bed again to crawl up on it. Ryan grabbed her, afraid she’d fall, and pulled her into his lap.

“Yes! I can cook breakfast! But not coffee, because it’s a dangerous machine that is warm like fire and makes water-poop,” she said, her last word quieting as she probably caught herself too late.

“What now?” Ryan asked, looking at her.

“Jackson said it,” she was quick to explain and Ryan snorted, but was too tired to correct her or even scold her. He rested his head in her hair, the scent comforting, hugging her close. She hugged him back, but only for a second, jumping up onto the bed again.

Now, jumping on the bed was not allowed when the bed was made, she knew that. But for now, Ryan let her, the sheets already wrinkled.

Looking over at Shane Ryan gave him a tired smile, getting up.

“You want some water-poop then?”

***-***-***

By the time Ryan had made toast for firstly Shane, then Olivia and then himself, his daughter had already made plans on what to do with Shane after school.

Ryan was managing the toaster, feeling like the man of a household managing the barbecue during a summer party. He knew Shane might not really be hungry, or perhaps even need food for that matter, but he was more set on teaching his daughter etiquette and guests got their toast first. She didn’t argue when he told her that and Shane didn’t say anything either.

He had fetched what Ryan asked him to get from the fridge; butter, cheese, ham. Ryan had, _after_ handing him the two pieces of toast, only then remembered to ask if Shane wanted eggs or something. None of his kids liked it on toast, and so Ryan just kind of forgot some people ate eggs on toast.

Wow, he really needed to get out more. Not turn down his friends all the time. Meet new people.

Shane had nonetheless turned down his offer for eggs with a smile, Olivia going on and on about horses and ponies.

“I’ve owned a few horses,” Shane said as Ryan loaded up two pieces in the toaster next, leaning back against the counter. He turned to Shane with an eyebrow raised. Shane looked over Oliva’s head at Ryan.

“Oh! What was they called?” she asked, leaning over the table, close to getting her hair in her apple juice.

“What _were_ they called,” Ryan absently corrected her, brushing her hair over her shoulders.

“I know,” she grunted back. Ryan found a blue hair tie at the end of the counter. It was a mess of stacked mail, important papers, post it notes of shopping lists, and drawings. He quickly tied her hair back as he knew it would be full of food soon otherwise.

“Ksiądz,” Shane said, buttering his toast.

“ _Apchon_?” Olivia tried to mimic, tilting her head. Ryan frowned at Shane.

“It means priest,” Shane explained. “He was my favorite and the fastest. There was also Katarzyna and Magdalena, both white horses, but Magdalena had a red mane.”

“I like Magalena,” Olivia said.

Shane met Ryan’s eyes, the two sharing a silent conversation.

The toaster then ejected the two pieces of bread, Ryan flinching at the sound. He blinked, trying to shake it off as he placed one on his plate and one on Olivia’s. Oblivious to the tense silence in the kitchen Olivia began humming as she made her own sandwich.

“I assume that was before… we met?” Ryan asked, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah, in Kraków. When it was still the capital,” Shane replied, also sounding nonchalant. Olivia sure didn’t seem to really listen as she sang about some shark family, presumably having heard it at school yesterday.

Ryan’s alarm went off in his pocket, telling him to wake up and he turned it off. He would usually give Jackson a couple more minutes to sleep, since he himself would normally get up around this time. But considering Shane was here he didn’t want his son to get uncomfortable walking into the kitchen. Jackson was definitely not going to be as excited as Olivia to having a stranger over.

“I’m gonna wake up Jackson,” Ryan mumbled, turning to Shane before leaving to point at Olivia and say “Don’t let her eat my toast. She will only have one.”

***-***-***

Jackson was awkward, to say the least. First he was annoyed when Ryan woke him up, and then he glared at him while Ryan explained he had a friend over.

The fact that Jackson got so upset, and continued asking “why” his dad had a friend over, only further assured Ryan he needed to have more people over. Sure, his kids had friends over all the time, but Ryan himself didn’t really. Then again it was the morning of an ordinary Tuesday and Ryan would only give Jackson vague replies as to why Shane was here, so he couldn’t be too mad at his kid.

Shane didn’t get to speak much at all because Olivia explained to Jackson who Shane was and that he had owned horses and that he liked to sing too amongst other things. Ryan was about to stop her and tell her that Shane could speak for himself but he was also a little curious what the two had talked about while he was gone waking Jackson.

Apparently it was mostly horse talk and which songs were the most fun to sing. Ryan’s mother, who had a friend from France, had learned all about Eurovision a couple years ago, and since Jackson was born it was a tradition to watch it together with Ryan’s mother each year. Ryan could see the fun in it, but got mostly bored after two or three ballads, but it was one of Olivia’s favorite things in the world. If it taught her geography Ryan could only be happy.

She was currently trying to sing some pop song clearly not in english, but probably also not close to the original language it was written in, and even Jackson laughed at her attempt.

“Is it Norweigan?” Shane asked, listening to her, having finished his breakfast.

“No, it’s Norway,” Olivia corrected him, as a matter of factly. Ryan suppressed his snort.

“I think the language of Norway is Norgeigan,” Shane smiled.

“Maybe,” Olivia said, tapping her hands on the table.

***-***-***

As his two kids were getting ready in their own rooms, Ryan assuring Olivia she could dress herself, he turned to Shane in the kitchen, finally alone.

“You wanna have a little chat… later?” Ryan asked, trying to sound casual. However, he also had a time limit since one of his children would most likely appear again any second. He didn’t want Shane to simply leave after Ryad had gotten his two kids in the car for school.

“What about work?” Shane asked and Ryan shook his head, wearing a bitter expression. Shane nodded and didn’t dig any deeper. He was cleaning the table, having insisted to help with at least something.

“Do you wanna stay here or come with us for drop-off?” Ryan asked, watching Shane load the four used glasses into the dishwasher.

“I’m gonna head out for a moment, but I can come over in an hour or so?” he asked, closing the machine shut after him. Ryan looked up at him, still not accustomed to the feeling of having to look up so far to meet the other person’s eyes. Ryan had _used_ to, but was no longer as he didn’t really know people as tall as Shane. At least not people he had known so well. Something about it made him feel a little sad.

He couldn’t deny, that even with all the shit that went down between the two, he missed his old friend.

He had to remind himself he didn’t really know Shane anymore, and he couldn’t really call them current friends. Acquaintances, and old friends, sure, but not current friends.

Ryan wondered if he’d like to be. He surely spent a lot of time convincing himself he needed more of those things called ‘friends’ anyway.

The last time they spoke had been at Buzz, on Shane’s last day. It had been awkward and their colleagues hadn’t commented on it, but they were clearly being watched in the office. Their friends knew they’d had a falling out, but not why. Most assumed it had to do with Ryan in some way, as he’d gone through a shaky wedding with his father passing away the week before. It hadn’t really been connected though, it had just been a coincidence, but Ryan didn’t get the chance to correct anyone as no one ever asked him to his face. He just heard rumours passing around.

Then again, perhaps that was the best, that they believed him and Shane had argued about something and simply stopped being friends. Shane was moving away, and though the demon never straight out said anything about it, Ryan guessed it had something to do with their fight. Shane had been talking about following Ryan to the radio channel that bought the rights to Unsolved, but after Ryan found out… he had changed his mind.

They hadn’t really talked to each other after it all went down, at least for a week, before they were literally forced to in a business meeting. And Shane didn’t attempt to reconcile with Ryan, who on the other hand didn’t want anything to do with Shane. Ryan remembered how he had carried holy water with him to work everyday. He’d even told Shane about it, as a warning. Ryan remembered his anger, but also his fear.

Shane had in turn just nodded in acceptance and kept his distance.

Because Shane had turned out to be a demon, the one thing Ryan feared most, and the thing classified as pure evil in his books. Yet, as far as Ryan had known him Shane had never done anything ‘pure evil’. On the other hand, it could truly just be that the demon had hid Ryan from seeing that side. _“A demon is a demon,”_ Ryan remembered repeating to himself back then. It had, at the heart of it, been the words that made Ryan make up his mind and cut ties with Shane.

Now, years later, sitting in his car Ryan wondered if cutting Shane off had really been the best choice. Shane, his his former best friend.

When Olivia and Jackson were both wearing their seatbelts Ryan drove them out from their apartment complex. In the rearview mirror he watched Shane wave and Ryan wasn't really sure what to think anymore.

***-***-***

He didn’t feel very subtle but he tried to look casual when one of his neighbours passed, nodding at her. As casual as one could look just lounging around in the common waste collection for the apartment complex. It was getting close to 10 o'clock and Ryan had went outside with the trash, now lingering a little by the garbage sorting station.

He wasn’t sure Shane knew the pin to their apartment, and he was positive Shane didn’t have Ryan’s new number.

Ryan had assumed Shane would message him on Facebook Messenger when he got back, but upon searching for their conversation Ryan had almost broken down crying. Their last messages were short, with proper grammar and punctuation, for the most part. It looked like strangers talking to each other, but without the polite language one used with those you didn’t properly know. It was all work related. Scrolling further up Ryan found the last message he had sent Shane before the 6th of September.

_‘I haven’t watched the episode yet so no spoilers tomorrow !! Also, can you buy two fat A batteries for tomorrow because Mark forgot’_

_‘I got you’_ was Shane’s reply.

Ryan had stared at those three words, closed the Messenger app with the intent to also push it far back, far away in his head. Ryan then busied himself with doing laundry.

Now, two years later Ryan realized it was Shane who appeared in the distance heading over towards him. He was wearing the same clothes, but had a backpack over his shoulder. Ryan pretended like he hadn’t been scanning for Shane and instead just innocently taken his sweet time disposing of the garbage outside.

“Hello,” Shane greeted, walking up to him.

“I remembered,” Ryan instantly started, “I didn’t even make coffee this morning. I completely forgot. Why didn’t you say anything, man?”

Shane snorted. “You seemed a little preoccupied. I also wasn’t completely sure if you meant coffee when you said poop water,” he joked.

Ryan groaned. “Yeah, well, even if I had a lot on my mind you could’ve still asked for coffee. I mean I had told you I would make you some.”

Shane shrugged. Then he smiled lightly. “How about some coffee now, then?”

It felt like they were trudging lightly, like sidestepping any off-limits topics, both walking on thin ice. Ryan hated it. His mind kept recalling the emotions he had used to feel when he saw Shane’s face, years back. Happiness, warmth, laughter, confusion, distrust, fear, anger. Now he wasn't sure what to feel so Ryan went with polite but distant reservation. In other words, caution.

They were seated in Ryan’s kitchen a couple minutes later, coffee brewing for both. Ryan remembered Shane liked his with milk. He had set the carton on the table without asking. Perhaps he should’ve asked first, or waited for Shane to ask for it. But wouldn’t that just be childish, as Ryan obviously remembered, considering how many times they talked about it. _‘Oh really? You drink milk with your coffee, Shane? I would’ve never known! Oh, we talked about it countless of times, to the point it was kind of a running gag? Silly me, doesn’t remember a thing.’_

“So… how have you been?” Ryan asked instead, “It’s been a while since we last saw each other.”

“I’m good,” Shane said, scratching his chin, eyes still on the carton of milk. “I’ve been in Poland for a little over a year. I came back about a month ago.”

Ryan looked up, surprised. It certainly hadn’t been the answer he expected.

“In Poland? Doing what?”

“Visiting the family, helping around with the company. They have a small bed and breakfast, I think I told you about it one time,” Shane said.

“You have fami-” Ryan started but caught himself mid through the question. He gave Shane a sheepish look.

“The Madej family, yes,” Shane supplied.

“Stefan,” Ryan mumbled. It was just a name, but Shane nodded.

It was the name of Shane’s body, which was a weird fucking thing to think about. Stefan Madej. Shane was the name… that _Shane_ had taken, the demon, the entity. Shane had told Ryan his first given name before, when Ryan asked, but it was impossible to pronounce, impossible to remember.

“Do they know?” Ryan asked after a pause. He didn’t like the stiff atmosphere and wished they could talk happily about the weather or movies or something. On the other hand, he knew they would need to get this over with, if they wanted to get anywhere. And Ryan honestly felt motivated and a little eager to. He was ready to, at least give this a try. Treat this entire thing like an adult.

“No. Perhaps the mother suspects something, but no. And I’m not going to tell them,” Shane explained. He had always been, since Ryan found out, very honest with Ryan whenever the human asked something. At least Ryan didn’t suspect him of lying, Shane seemed genuine. He explained the best he could when Ryan asked something, even had back then too, even when Ryan spat the questions in disgust.

Shane’s head turned towards the coffee maker and a second later the light let Ryan know it was finished. He got back up and poured them both a cup. He had asked if Shane wanted something else earlier, despite the fact that Ryan probably only had alphabet cookies and moomin biscuits in the cupboard. Shane had declined nonetheless.

“So why come back here then?” Ryan asked as he sat down again and their eyes met.

“I’ve lived here for most of this life,” Shane said, “I like it.”

“What about Iceland?” Ryan asked and Shane smiled to himself.

“You remembered.”

“Of course I remember where- what you told me,” Ryan said, stumbling a little over the words, “I m-mean I’m sure you remember I’ve lived most of my life here in California.”

“Yeah, but my memory is probably a bit better than yours,” Shane smiled.

Ryan didn’t try to argue.

“But no,” Shane sighed, looking out the window to his left, “Iceland isn’t calling for me now, not yet. I do miss it sometimes but I’ve spent so many centuries there. Perhaps in my next body, if I stay on earth one more lifetime,” he said, looking deep in thought.

And there it was, the topic Ryan was nervous to talk about. Again, Ryan appreciated the honesty, but it was hard not to get a little freaked out thinking about it. Ryan had never really wanted to be immortal, or close to it or whatever Shane was, but just thinking about it made him count how many years he would probably have left. If he could grow to be eighty something, he had at least forty years left, maybe fifty.

“Can you stop aging?” Ryan asked, resting his head in his hand, elbow on the table.

“The body, you mean? Yes, if I spend enough energy on it. I wouldn’t say it’s worth it though, unless you really love it I guess. Going to get my driver’s license renewed every ten years would be an issue. And I’d have to cut off all my friends around me, or they’d start asking questions.”

Ryan nodded and looked down at his black coffee.

They had been sitting in the office, the last week before Shane left, and while the two barely talked anymore Ryan hadn’t been able to contain his silence.

 _“Do you really think I’ll go to Heaven? Even after all the things I’ve done and said at all the locations we’ve been?”_ Ryan had asked, and Shane had turned to him, probably not expecting the human to talk to him. They were both finishing up editing their separate projects.

 _“Yes, I think so,”_ Shane had simply replied.

 _“How do you know?”_ Ryan had asked without looking at him. He could tell Shane was, though.

_“I don’t. But I do know what can get a human into Hell, and you haven’t really done any of that. At least not to a high enough degree.”_

“You okay?” Shane suddenly asked, bringing Ryan back to current time. A car honked somewhere outside, and Ryan straightened up, meeting Shane’s eyes again.

“Yeah, just thinking.”

Shane looked him over for a moment, before nodding. “So what have you been up to then? After Unsolved Radio?”

Ryan set down his cup to crack his knuckles, watching his fingers. “I continued with the radio show for almost two years,” Ryan paused, then asked if Shane had listened to any of it.

“I listened to the episodes,” Shane nodded, “I always thought the show was something that would work well with the format of just audio. I liked it.”

“Oh, thanks” Ryan replied, surprised Shane had apparently listened and followed the radio show. He probably didn’t listen to all episodes, Ryan thought, but still some. More than one, it seemed.

It made him feel a little warm, something growing in his chest, something Ryan immediately threw away towards the back of his mind amongst forbidden topics to think about, like long forgotten Messenger conversations.

“Uh,” Ryan continued, “I then got a job as an editor for another company, did some small things here and there, and now just _yesterday_ … I, uh, I actually got fired,” he sighed, putting both hands down on the table with a thud. “The company wasn’t doing well financially, so it’s not completely illogical, I guess. It still came as a surprise, and, knowing m-my boss he was probably told from someone higher up. Which is why I didn’t get told ahead of time… I think,” Ryan trailed off.

“Ouch,” Shane grimaced. “What are you gonna do? Go job searching?”

“Yeah, I guess. I mean I need to pay rent and buy, you know, banana yoghurts for Jackson,” Ryan said somberly before rubbing his hands over his face with a sigh. He still hadn’t really processed it all, having been so used to his pattern of a week. With Shane suddenly in his life again he hadn’t really had time though.

“You don’t happen to know something?” Ryan asked, voice muffled by his hands still over his face. He heard Shane laugh in front of him.

“Not really, sorry. I saw an add on a Domino’s door downtown though.”

Ryan snorted, but really, it was better than nothing. If he wasn’t extremely lucky and found something with his degree in film, he would have to go for a regular retail job. Then again there was an IT company that almost always hired people too, that Ryan had on his list of Plan B’s. The pay wasn’t good and the hours were long, not mentioning the job was extremely repetitive and tedious, but it was still a job.

“Are you working here?” Ryan asked, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Kinda, not really,” Shane said, wearing a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes, like he was trying to convey something silently. Either he wanted Ryan not to ask, or for him to ask. It wasn’t clear.

Ryan, of course, asked nonetheless.

“It’s not a human job, Ryan,” Shane clarified, leaning back in the kitchen chair.

“Oh,” Ryan blinked.

“Ryan, I’ve always been honest with you since, you know,” Shane paused, waving in the air and Ryan understood. “I mean, I think I owe you that. But sometimes it might be too much for you, I realize. I know you’re curious, but I’ll leave it up to you to tell me when you don’t want to hear about any demon talk.”

Ryan frowned. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Talking about Hell and all, it’s a bit intense, isn’t it?” Shane asked, shrugging.

“I can handle it. I’m not a-some-some super religious virgin. You know that,” Ryan frowned, not sure his example conveyed what he meant. Shane chuckled nonetheless.

“Okay,” Shane smiled. “Honestly, it’s pretty refreshing actually, being this honest with a human.” Then he paused, looking Ryan over. “And I assume I can still trust you not to tell anyone.”

“I promised back then and I still stand by that. I won’t tell a soul… as long as you don’t do something that endangers anyone I know,” Ryan said, trying to recall his exact words from then.

“Sounds good,” Shane smiled nonetheless. “What I’m currently doing is some modest demon contracts here and there again. I’m not quite sure what Stefan Madej would’ve done at this point, so I’m freestyling a little bit. I haven’t really done any demon contracts for a while, at least for two life times, so I’m just dipping a little into it again. I don’t let people remember my face though, no worries,” he assured Ryan, like it was something the human would’ve asked about. Ryan, however, was still processing _‘I haven’t done any demon contracts for a while’._

“Do I…?” Ryan started, unsure if he wanted to finish his question.

Shane raised both eyebrows, “... want to know? What they’re about?”

Ryan nodded.

“Depends, Ryan. But this far I’m doing mostly regular contracts, deals with humans. But then again, in my opinion, if you’re dealing with a demon in the first place you’re probably not the best kind of human.”

“I’ve done deals with you though,” Ryan frowned.

“Those are different and tied to specific and odd occasions” Shane said, looking amused before he winked. “At least you haven’t asked for a million dollars in exchange for your soul thus far.”

“Yeah, no, I’m good,” Ryan snorted. It felt good to laugh and for a second Ryan genuinely thought that maybe, perhaps things could really turn out okay.

“What are they about?” Ryan asked, curious.

“I’ve only done four collections yet this month. I collect what the humans have put in for the deal, most of the time it’s their soul. Since, you know, most people don’t believe they have one in the first place.”

“Isn’t that kind of… scamming though?” Ryan asked, frowning.

“I wasn’t there when the deals were being made, so I don’t know how they were arranged or haggled about at the time. But when you learn demons are real, you probably know what you’re getting into, selling your ‘ _apparent_ ’ soul,” Shane said, doing quotation marks. “Some humans still try to fight when we come to collect, try to get away.”

“How… how do you do it?” Ryan asked, voice unsure. Curiosity usually got the better of him and he felt a little unsure if he really wanted to hear the reply.

“I either come to collect the soul, as peacefully as I can, or I just drag them to Hell. Depends on the contract and how they behave,” he said.

“Do you get paid?” Ryan asked, frowning.

“Yes, but not in human money. Though I could probably ask for that currency if I wanted it,” Shane said, picking up his cup to finish the last of his coffee. Ryan still found the coffee to be a bit too hot, but it surely didn’t seem to bother the demon in his kitchen.

Ryan sighed. “Hell isn’t hiring then?” he joked.

“You could definitely get a job, if you wanted one.”

“What? Really?” Ryan asked in disbelief, raising an eyebrow at Shane.

“I was just joking,” Shane chuckled, “but yeah, probably.”

A silence fell over the kitchen and their eyes met.

“Wait what, really? Like, actually really? And I’m not considering it, but… now I’m curious. What is it?” Ryan asked, putting down his cup. Shane stood up to put his own in the dishwasher. He turned around to lean against the counter, arms crossed.

“I was only humoring you, Ryan,” he said.

“No, you weren’t,” Ryan instantly replied. Of course he didn’t know if Shane was or not, but Ryan tried his luck and he called his bluff.

Shane stared at him for a couple seconds before he sighed.

“Well, yeah, obviously there are things we can’t do for Hell that needs to be done, but not many humans are eager to work for the actual devil,” Shane said, rolling his eyes. “Drop it, Bergara. I know you’re thinking about it. It’ll just get you in trouble.”

“I’m not considering it, I’m just curious,” Ryan replied, trying to assure the demon. “Are there like, what, murderers working for Hell, or something?”

Shane shook his head, then he looked out the kitchen window again, as if contemplating what to say or if to say anything at all. Then he sighed and sat down at the table again. Ryan unconsciously licked his lips.

“It’s mostly priests that perform exorcisms, some nuns and freelancer preachers. We demons can’t really exorcise other demons since we’ll, you know, exorcise ourselves,” he said, gesturing, “If we’re stronger we can over-power and drag the other demon down to Hell, or even annihilate it. But it’s really fucking tiring, like, imagine running a marathon. It’s not something most of us have the power to do every da-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ryan interrupted him, having sat with his mouth open since Shane mentioned priests.

“Priests? Nuns!?” Ryan blurted, his voice nearly cracking.

“Yeah. I know it sounds odd but they’re really doing it for the good of humanity,” Shane said.

“Isn’t that, I don’t know, Heaven’s job?” Ryan asked, like it was obvious, holding up his hands in confusion.

Shane just laughed aloud, like Ryan might as well have asked if it was the McDonalds workers job.

“Heaven doesn’t do shit here, Ryan,” he exclaimed. “I might be a bit partial but I’m telling you the _impartial_ truth when I say they don’t even come here, barely at all. Only angels work for Heaven, and no one else does or can. They accept humans into Heaven when they die, weigh their sins against their good deeds and that stuff. And fight to keep away intruders I guess, though a demon would be an idiot to try to get into Heaven in the first place,” Shane thought audibly, rubbing his chin.

“They don’t walk the earth, like, at all?” Ryan asked, not being able to hide the disappointment he felt.

“No, only at rare, rare occasions. Like every century or so.”

Ryan stared down at the table in thought, a frown on his face.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Ryan. And again, remember; demon here,” Shane reminded him. “But I’d compare it to when the boss of another department you work at finally step into the workplace. Like, they’ve never really been there, never seen the tough job the workers do everyday, but they nod a little, look around, chest puffed up, and then walk back inside their cozy office.”

“Interesting analogy,” Ryan muttered. It wasn’t the image he had himself of angels. “But this is your side of the story,” Ryan thought aloud.

The demon nodded. “It is, but they’re not my enemies, Ryan. So I’m not speaking out of spite,” Shane assured him. “I don’t envy them nor would I like to be one. It’s just another creature from another far-away place. Demon’s can't visit Heaven, but angels can fall to Hell, so I’ve met some.”

Ryan was about to say this was way too much otherworldly and divine information for a regular tuesday morning, but the sound of his phone ringing cut him off. His eyebrows furrowed as he brought the device up from his pocket.

“Sorry,” he distractedly said to the other. Shane watched him, gesturing for him to take the call.

Not recognizing the number, but seeing it was a local one, Ryan picked up.

“Bergara here.”

“Mr. Bergara?” a female voice asked. Ryan was expecting to hear an offer about a new phone plan, or perhaps to be told his Windows had a malicious virus, so he made a grimace of irritation, Shane releasing a small laugh.

“This is Mrs. Wilson, I’m calling from Alice Apollo Middle school,” the female continued and Ryan froze. He instantly straightened up, his eyes widening. Several horrible assumptions and hypothetical situations crossed his mind and Ryan swallowed loudly.

“Yes?” he asked, watching Shane stand up in the corner of his eye, probably worried by Ryan’s sudden reaction. Or perhaps he had actually felt his sudden spike of fear.

“I’m sorry to call you like this in the middle of the day - and I want you to know we are doing everything we can - before you worry, sir. But Olivia Bergara and two of her friends have possibly left the school grounds and we are now searching for them in the area. Police are also on the way, but we’re calling to ask if your daughter or her friends have gone to your place?”

Ryan could barely hear the words any longer, unknown sounds buzzing in his ears. He imagined a van or something driving up to the school, luring three young kids inside, the school guards on duty sleeping in the cleaning cupboard or something.

He didn’t even have time to process her words enough to get mad. There was only worry. Ryan ran over to Olivia’s room, Jackson’s room; both were empty. He hastily unlocked the front door and threw it open but no one was outside.

“They’re not here,” he breathed. “Have you tried calling their phones? Olivia has a phone, I can call right now-” Ryan said, words slurred in his hurry.

“Olivia’s phone is left in her bag in the classroom,” the teacher interrupted him. He could tell she was worried too, the concern in her voice obvious now. “From what we know the other two girls didn’t have phones yet.”

“Shit, fuck,” Ryan cried, hastily running into the ktichen to grab his keys, stopping when he remembered Shane was there. “I’m heading over there now, I-I’ll be there in a minute,” he said to the teacher. He could hear her say something, probably trying to convince him they’d handle it, but he hung up.

“Olivia is missing-” Ryan breathed, and the keys slid from his shaky fingers. Shane was there though, catching them with one hand.

“I heard. Let’s go now,” he said, holding up the keys.

They both dressed in silence before running down the stairs to Ryan’s car. He didn’t argue when Shane unlocked his car and got into the driver’s seat. He probably shouldn’t drive himself anyway.

“It’s probably fine, Ryan-” Shane started when they’d gotten onto the road, but Ryan slammed his fist into the hood of the car.

“It’s not fucking fine, don’t tell me to calm down!” He yelled.

Staring at his fist he was distractedly surprised that the air-bag hadn’t deployed.

“Worry all you want, but she might’ve just went home with a friend or something, I’m just guessing plausible explanations,” Shane tried instead, pulling up his own phone to put in the GPS. Ryan waved for Shane to pocketed his phone, explaining the way. He needed something to focus on, so he acted as GPS.

There was a short queue on one of the roads because of road work, and Ryan nearly had a breakdown while they waited. Shane remained calm behind the wheel but there was an ever present frown on his face.

“Can you help? Can you help find her, I mean?” Ryan asked, his voice tiny in the car, the traffic loud around them.

“Of course I will,” Shane gave him his word, sounding a bit offended Ryan would think otherwise. “I might be able to find her scent.”

Ryan was too worried to even made a dog joke.

***-***-***

Two police cars were pulled into the parking lot of the school and Ryan spotted them from afar. There were no sirens on nor were the red and blue lights blinking. One police, a heavy man holding his belt, was talking to a teacher in the parking lot.

Shane parked Ryan’s car a bit further away from the main entrance, Ryan getting out of the car only to realize he never buckled his seatbelt. He looked at Shane over the car, his hair flying in the wind. There was a tall hedge behind them, the leaves rustling loudly. There had been a forecast of a storm, he briefly recalled.

Walking around the car Ryan started to jog up towards the police but a hand on his wrist stopped him. He turned around to argue but Shane gave him a look. “I’ve got it.”

“Got it?”

“I think I sense her. She was with two other kids, correct?” Shane asked, but was already pulling Ryan towards the back of the school. It was a large school with two main buildings and Shane led them behind the smaller of the two, letting go of his wrist. The sun didn’t shine there, a large shadow from the building itself falling over them. Shane seemed to be set on a specific path and Ryan followed, having to jog to keep up. They passed a couple trees where the leaves were already starting to fall with autumn around the corner.

“Did you find her scent?” Ryan whispered, stepping over an empty bike rack after Shane.

Shane didn’t reply and Ryan felt his irritation grow, yet he tensed when Shane stopped in his tracks. He watched the demon close his eyes, inhale and then turn right. Ryan quietly followed.

When they ran around the corner of the building they came across a group of teenagers sitting on the grass, one of them badly concealing a cigarette. Ryan didn’t give them more than a glance.

They were getting closer to the football grounds, a class currently practicing on one half of the field. It was a fairly well-kept outdoor sports arena, especially considering it was owned by a middle school. The bleachers and the two buildings which seemed to function as changing rooms had once been painted a bright, warm yellow. Now the color was falling off, faded in the bright sun. The kids were wearing bright red clothes, the color a bright contrast to the worn grass field and dark sky above. It looked like it would rain any second.

Ryan had been here a couple times, sat on the bleachers with other parents while the school sports days. Jackson had been on the relay team that won second place that spring.

“Shane?”

Once again no response.

The two ran right across the field on the other side of the class, Ryan being able to spot the PE teacher giving them a thorough look.

“Shane? Please! Did you find her?” Ryan cried, trying to catch up to Shane and his long legs.

“I can sense fear,” Shane finally replied. He still didn’t look at Ryan, just kept going.

“Fuck,” Ryan gasped quetly to himself, the wind picking up around them in that same moment.

They finally reached the large bleacher building, Shane instantly going to the back of it. On one side it was lined with seats probably filling at least a hundred people, the roof built above the bleachers to keep out rain. From the back the building just looked like a tall house with no windows, and following Shane around the building Ryan saw two doors on each end. Shane went for the first one and the handle surprisingly slid down, the door opening. It was unlocked.

“Olivia?!” Ryan called as he blindly followed Shane inside after him. It was dark inside, all the light coming from the door they’d just opened. Ryan’s eyes searched in the dark, his body spinning around in circles. He was still scared, almost to the point of shaking, but not even one bit was for himself but only for his daughter. It was like his brain had shut down, only fixating on this one task, focusing on finding her.

He looked around the dark room which was filled with sports equipment and old scoreboards, probably replaced by the large digital one outside.

“Olivia, I know you’re there,” Shane then said, in a much gentler voice.

Ryan spun around, heart rate picking up as he heard those words, finding his friend crouched at one of the corners. The light from outside didn’t help much any longer, especially not this far inside, and Ryan tripped on a metal bar or something. Ignoring the pain in his knees he scrambled over to crawl up to Shane. What Ryan had just assumed was a plain wall he realized had a small hole towards the floor. Pieces of wood was broken off and as he lay on his stomach he could kind of see inside. It was a tight space in width, but followed the side of the bleachers in length it had to at least be a couple metres long.

Ryan narrowed his eyes as he thought he saw movement in the shadows, then gasped as he realized what he was looking at.

Three small figures were sat at the end of the hidden room, another one in front of them, closer to Ryan and Shane.

The planks of wood that the bleacher building was made of weren’t attached side to side, but rather had a bit of spacing between, probably to save money on wood. It wasn’t like the building would be used during the winter anyway. But from the small gaps between the boards there was a bit of light let inside, and it cast a pattern on the figures inside, similar to how blinds on a window would, except vertical. If it hadn’t been so damn cloudy outside Ryan would’ve maybe seen inside properly.

“Who are you?” One of the figures asked. It was a boy’s voice, but Ryan couldn’t see his face.

“My name is Shane, this is Ryan. Who are you?” Shane replied when Ryan didn’t.

“Olivia, is that you?” Ryan called, ignoring the boy. He didn’t sound near as collected as Shane.

“Go away,” the boy yelled, “We’re playing.”

But following his words was a sniffle, clearly not coming from him but from one of the three figures huddled together at the end.

“Olivia? Dad is here, I’m right here,” Ryan called again, trying to look inside but the hole was too small for him to fit. A six year old could, however.

“Dad, please help,” a voice cried and Ryan tensed.

“Shane, go get the cops,” he quickly hissed to the other who sat there beside him. Then he turned back to his daughter. “We’re gonna get you out, just wait-” Ryan started, getting onto his knees, but a voice interrupted him.

“No, we’re just playing! Leave!” It was the boy.

“He won’t l-let us leave,” another voice cried, one of the girls, Ryan assumed. He knew some of Olivia’s friends, but he didn’t recognize this one. But the scene in front of them was clear; the boy who sat closest to the exit was blocking the exit, the three girls cornered in the back.

“You come out here, right now, or I’m getting the cops to come over. And they’ll tear this wall down if they have to,” Ryan said, anger growing. He turned to Shane who just looked at him, and who had clearly not left to get the cops or the janitor.

He heard the sound of someone moving and Ryan instantly crouched again to look inside the small space and he could see that the boy had turned to him.

“Ryan,” Shane whispered beside him but Ryan ignored him, fishing out his phone to turn the flashlight on. He turned the bright light towards the group.

The boy was sitting down, crouched, with his side to the opening. His blonde hair was wild and his eyes wide open. Behind him his shadow cast across three young girls and one was Olivia. All three girls appeared terrified, pushed together against the wall.

“Go away, and we will come out later,” the boy tried, holding out a hand to cover his face from the light. However, as he moved Ryan saw something reflecting in the light, in the boys other hand.

“He, fuck, he has a knife, Shane,” Ryan panicked, his shaking hands dropping the phone.

“I’ll get them out, turn the light off,” Shane said immediately, his quick words almost falling to deaf ears as Ryan was having a hard time focusing properly. He felt like he was getting closer and closer to a panic attack.

“Ryan, the light,” Shane whispered once more and Ryan stared at his friend, unconsciously panting. Then he nodded, seeming to get a hold of himself, scrambling to pick up his phone.

The moment the light turned off Shane moved back in a flash, the warmth from his body gone. Ryan turned his head to watch Shane sit up, kneeling, the dark seemingly surrounding him. ‘Or perhaps it was Shane that was enveloping the dark’, a small voice in the back of Ryan’s head thought.

Then the demon closed his eyes. He looked like he was praying, which was definitely ironic.

The temperature dropped around them, Ryan inadvertently shivering. It was pitch black again, and with the sudden tapping on the roof he realized it must’ve started raining outside. But even in the dark, Ryan could see something moving beside him. Whatever it was it wasn’t solid and though it made Ryan shiver it somehow felt familiar.

It was the smoke, the black smoke. It was Shane.

It passed him curling across the floor and Ryan had to narrow his eyes to even try to see.

Then someone was moving inside and Ryan stiffened as he realized it was the boy who turned around fully.

“Tony?” Olivia whispered, breaking the silence. Ryan could hear the dread in her voice.

So the boy’s name had to be Tony.

Tony started crawling towards Ryan who scrambled backwards as the boy reached the hole in the wall. Ryan stood up, stumped for words or what to do as the watched Tony get to his feet. Standing in the light from the outside Ryan could properly get a look at him. His hair was dirty, and he had a cut above one eyebrow, his cheeks skinny. He had to be the same age as Jackson, or perhaps a year younger.

But his eyes were somehow… entirely white. He looked dead, like a ghost from one of the many horror movies Ryan had watched. A shiver ran down his spine at the sight.

He was staring into Ryan’s chest in silence before slowly raising his hand, holding out the knife. Ryan stared at him before carefully taking the item from Tony, a pocket knife.

Not Tony. _Shane_ , who had control of his body. Ryan glanced behind him and Shane was still sat kneeling on the ground, eyes closed, absolutely still. The black fog was still everywhere but there was a clear trail between Shane and the boy. Ryan squinted down at his shoes where it crawled against his legs.

The human suppressed a shiver.

“Can we come out?” Olivia cried from inside and Ryan broke from the trance, hurrying over to the gap in the wall again, nearly knocking his head into one of the girls who was creeping outside. After she finally crawled outside she threw her arms around Ryan, letting out a loud cry. He had no idea who she was but he hugged her close, patting her hair, shushing gently.

Olivia came out next, also falling into Ryan’s arms, and he had a hard time not crying himself. The third girl Ryan recognized, one of Olivia’s friends called Judith. As she stood Ryan could tell her legs were shaking. She looked uncertain and Ryan’s heart broke. Even with his arms full of two already bawling children he held out his arms for her too.

Ryan held them close for a moment, giving not only the girls but also himself time to collect themselves and calm down.

He carefully turned his head to glance over his shoulder, finding Shane standing behind them, a firm grip on the boy’s arm. His eyes were back to normal, a bright blue, his cheeks red in shame. Ryan smiled at Shane in gratitude, but it didn’t really reach his eyes.

Both police cars left the school less than ten minutes after the kids had been found. The teachers had pulled all four kids into the curator's office, Ryan included. Apart from Judith having fallen and scraped her knee at one point, none of the kids were hurt. Tony’s parents were called but would apparently not have time to show up. The curator gave Ryan a look, as if silently trying to explain that the boy had a troubled home. Like Ryan couldn’t have figured that out on his own.

He was still mad and as he spoke alone with the headmaster and curator they assured him they would keep an eye on Tony from now on.

Ryan wasn’t entirely pleased, still running high on adrenaline and fury, angry that this happened in the first place. But he wanted to get back to Olivia so he shook their hands and left.

Shane was waiting outside, sitting beside Olivia on the small couch filled with stuffed animals and embroidered pillows. Olivia was leaning against the demon and had draped a stuffed green snake over both of them, one of those you could get from IKEA.

Ryan finally cracked a small smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Thunder crashed down upon them as the Buzzfeed Unsolved crew exited their cars. Ryan stared up at the massive mansion in front of them, taking in the sight. It certainly looked like the pictures he’d seen online, when the team had planned the visit. But he hadn’t been able to imagine how massive it was, and how tiny and insignificant he now felt.

It was their fourth and final shoot in Canada and Ryan had known this place would be on the top of their list when they first started talking about traveling to Canada. It was one of those places listed everywhere online on polls like ‘Top haunted places in Canada’. And while Ryan knew it was a good place to shoot, fantastic in fact, he was still scared shitless.

The building was also not only most-likely-incredibly haunted but also really old; a lot of sections were shut off to prevent people from falling through floors and getting hurt. In 2002 a group of teens had fallen down into the basement and one gotten hurt enough to paralyze him for life. Ryan had already done his VO for the episode and mentioned it. It was most likely just an unfortunate accident, but it still scared him. The teen himself had told news media he was pushed by a malicious spirit after all.

“It’s probably going to start raining any second, so we should do this now,” one of the producers said behind Ryan and he agreed, getting into the gear. It was cold outside and he was glad he was wearing a jacket underneath the harness for his camera. The building was definitely not going to be warm, most windows broken open and parts of the walls exposed.

They shot a quick intro in front of the building, and just as they finished it started pouring. They made a funny bit out of it and ran inside. The entrance wasn’t very scary though and it was clear this was a tourist attraction. Ryan scanned the posters of amusement parks and bungee jumping attached onto the walls as they entered the building, a guide letting them inside. The man also told the crew there was told two guards on duty. That made Shane snort.

“I bet a hundred dollars one of them will make a sound that Ryan will present as evidence later,” he joked. Ryan rolled his eyes at his friend.

They had set up a loose plan of how to approach the observatory and the crew dumped their cameras and things in the large dining hall where they entered. Ryan walked to the edge of the group to bring up his phone, making sure no one else could peek over his shoulder.

His girlfriend had dropped a huge bomb on him yesterday and Ryan still remembered seeing the image of the pregnancy test. If he scrolled up in their conversation he could see it again. It was still there, it was still true, even if he deleted her text. Not that he would, of course. He was happy. However, worry was at the top of his mind. He felt like it was still early, like you’d usually wait a little longer to have kids. They weren’t even married yet. She wanted to keep it, and so did he.

But it still didn’t mean Ryan couldn’t worry.

“You okay, man?” Shane asked in front of him and Ryan looked up, a bit startled.

“Yeah, just texting my girl,” he assured him, immediately locking his phone as Shane walked up to him.

“We’re thinking of ending the shoot in here instead, so the crew can move their stuff last of all,” Shane said and Ryan nodded, still thinking about diapers and baby showers.

The recording went well for the beginning of the night. It was still raining aggressively outside and while it added ambiance it also probably fucked a bit with their audio recorders. The vicious thunder, however, was amazing. Sure, it spiked fear in Ryan every time it hit, but together with the lightning he was sure it would look amazing in the actual episode later.

On the top floor Shane was absurdly imitating a senile patient, a ghost some visitors had claimed to see. It had Ryan laughing loudly, the noise echoing in the hallway. The thunder didn’t feel that dangerous after all.

The room they picked for their individual investigation was, on the other hand, horrifying, at least to Ryan. It was a massive hall; the chapel of the observatory. Apparently some patients had done some crazy stuff in the room, certainly not in the name of any god, and Ryan got a horrible feeling inside. He went inside after Shane who winked at him before closing the doors.

“Have fun with the demons, Ryan,” he sang and Ryan cursed him before he was alone.

He had two cameras, one on his forehead and the other on his harness, recording him, bouncing as he walked.

There was still an altar in place, carved in stone at the end of the room, a large cross up on the wall behind it. It was at least two metres in length, made of blessed oak, apparently. The guide had told them earlier it was on a cogwheel and could spin to the side so it could be turned upside down. Probably not international when it was put up, but it worked well for guided tours nowadays, he had said with a laugh. The crew had recorded a bit for it but Ryan was unsure if it would make the cut. It was now turned back the right way, Ryan standing in front of it.

“If anyone’s there-” he started but the paused, “No, you know what, no. I don’t care. Don’t show yourself, don’t talk to me,” Ryan said to the room, closing his eyes. “I’m perfectly fine with nothing happening right here, right now.”

He turned around, recording the room. He hated absolute silence in places like this, but now the pouring rain outside made it impossible for him to hear if anyone… or anything was hiding in any corners. There were four massive windows in the room, all nearly empty of glass, only the steel bars still up. ‘ _To prevent inmates of jumping’_ the guide had explained.

A sudden bolt of lightning outside lit up the entire room and Ryan immediately imagined creatures hunched over in the corner, their eyes red and claws sharp. He pictured something similar to the creature in The Thing, or perhaps a xenomorph. And then the thunder crashed down, Ryan releasing a loud curse at the sound, even though he knew it was coming.

“Fuck this place so hard,” he whispered, turning in circles in the middle of the room, hating having his back to any of the corners. He felt like something was watching him, a shiver running down his spine.

He walked back to the altar when the rain calmed slightly. There were two flashlights on it and he hadn’t even paid them any mind. “Fuck ‘em” he said aloud.

It had to be close to five minutes now, he thought. Turning once more he eyed the doors, waiting for his friend to open it. He assumed they were all laughing outside, most likely having heard Ryan’s scream after the thunder earlier.

His heart was beating loudly, and he glanced at the heart monitor on his wrist. It was way over a hundred now. It was still a struggle to try to sync it to the episode, but fans loved the addition.

“I feel like it’s been five minutes now,” Ryan called, glancing behind him at the cross again before turning back to the doors. “Guys?”

Ryan felt another shiver run through him at the silence.

Then he heard the slightest creak, something slowly sliding, metal against metal, coming from somewhere. The hairs on his body stood up as he tried deciphering what the sound was. Just as he realized it was coming from behind him a loud crash rang in the chapel.

Ryan had jumped forwards and turned at the same time, stumbling to the floor onto his ass. He stared at the big cross in front of him, having screamed loudly because of the noise. He realized it had de-latched and spun to the side, swinging slightly before stilling, now depicting the upside cross.

“Fucking hell,” Ryan half cried, half whispered. He heard the entrance doors bust open, people running inside.

“You okay, man!?”

That was Shane.

“We must’ve forgotten to latch it, fuck.”

That was the Canadian guide.

And Ryan, with his harness-attached camera shoved right up in his face, couldn’t hide the tears of fear. Sure he could laugh it off after a minute, but his hands wouldn’t stop shaking until they left the building.

“If anything it’s great for the episode,” Ryan continued to insist, about an hour later.

They were standing in the parking lot, the first car of the crew having left for their hotel. Devon wasn’t feeling well, probably a fever, and Ryan, Shane and the two cameramen had hurried them along.

The guide was still apologizing every time they talked about the mishap with the cross. But really, no one had gotten hurt and Ryan insisted the accident would be great for the episode. It wasn’t the guide’s fault either, as Shane had been then one to put the cross back up after taking it down the first time. He together with the Mark recording him at time, should be the people to blame, really. Ryan still didn’t accuse anyone. It was something that could happen; every human forgot things.

Shane had gotten his equipment off, Ryan accepting the cameras and putting them in their respective cases.

The guide shook everyone’s hand and then got into his own car, an old van with an ad for guided tours at the observatory printed on it. The font of the letters were imitating dripping blood, painted in bright red.

Ryan waved to the car as he left, getting the last of their stuff in the trunk. Shane had offered to drive and was already getting into the driver's seat.

It was fairly quiet around them, apart from the rain of course, and Ryan could only hear an engine somewhere close by. The highway wasn’t too far away.

Ryan shut the trunk, patting it lightly, before walking around the car to his side.

Only to stare eye to eye with bright headlights heading for him in the speed of light. Or the speed of a car going way over a hundred on a small road like this one.

 _‘Ah. This is it,’_ Ryan managed to think.

And in that moment, in that still millisecond he felt, somehow… okay with it. He had lived a good life. Yeah, he had only lived a portion of it but he was still thankful for every year that he got. Added, he now knew he would indeed be a bad father; not being there at all for his child was worse that being a nervous wreck of a father.

Ryan imagined that he closed his eyes, bracing himself. Of course, in that moment he didn’t have time to react, because his reflexes weren’t quick enough. He was only human, after all.

But it didn’t go dark, he didn’t simply fall into an endless sleep, or have his life flash in front of his eyes.

He was still conscious a second later, two seconds later, and while he could hear the sounds of screeching and screaming, he still didn’t feel the punch of the impact. But instead an intense pain, slowly crawling up his arm like a thousand needles, erupting up his elbow and into his shoulder.

Ryan opened his mouth and screamed as loud as he could, feeling the wind across his face, pushing his clothes around, his jacket falling off in the wind.

And then he hit the ground. There was gravel underneath him but also wet grass, his thigh slamming into what had to be a rock. His eyes didn’t catch up immediately but he saw the red glare of the break lights of a car in front of him.

Bright red, lighting up like two eyes of pure evil. Because red eyes had to be evil, right.

Ryan collected himself faster than he expected and put his hands onto the ground to push himself up. The pain in his right arm flared up again and his palm slipped on the wet grass. It was cold and uncomfortable and Ryan tried to focus on breathing, his eyelids falling shut. He had to focus. He clearly wasn’t dead.

“Shit, fuck!” Someone screamed and the noise was faded, as if Ryan was underwater. Even so he still recognized the voice as Brad, the new cameraman. Ryan opened his eyes again, the red brake lights still the things his eyes instantly focused on. His vision was yet skewed, and Ryan knew he was lying on the side, his cheek pressed into the gravel. Strands of grass and broken-off flowers were dancing in front of him, Ryan focusing on how calm it was.

Then something moved behind the grass, over by the car with the headlights. Ryan tried to focus, narrowing his eyes as he watched someone stand up.

His breath hitched as he realized who it was, even with his brown hair a mess, blood running down his face from his head. And his leg; his left leg was twisted right beneath the knee. But Shane still straightened up, a hand on the side of the foreign car as he walked towards the road.

Shane didn’t see him, and Ryan somehow felt himself keeping quiet, not emitting a sound. Because while Shane looked horrifying with his eyes lidded, blood running down one side of his face, and one of his legs pointing the wrong way… he also had two new appendages sprouting out from his mess of hair. Ryan might’ve thought it was branches or leaves stuck to him at first, but even with his vision tilted the wrong way, Ryan could tell what they were.

Ryad had been right all along.

Fucking shit.

There Shane Madej was, his co-host and best friend, stood leaning against the side of the car, balancing himself, black horns curving up back behind his head. Shane Madej, who the silly rumours had been about, now actually true all along. His eyes were shut while his hands and fingers, no, _claws_ , were clenching the metal.

Demon.

Ryan wanted to see his eyes. For Shane to open his eyes.

‘That had to be a real demon,’ he thought. Or this was one hell of an elaborate prank.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Brad cried again, this time louder, this time in pure horror. Ryan watched Shane look up at the sound and seemingly collected himself before he headed towards the sound. But his eyes were not black, Ryan realized. They were all white, like Shane’s pupils had rolled into the back of his head.

“No! Don’t get any closer, what the actual f-” Brad screamed before he went silent, his voice muffled by something. Ryan wanted to turn his head, to watch, but he couldn’t. His body wouldn’t move.

He could barely move his left arm at all he realized, as he listened to muffled screams. He wiggled his fingers in the grass, feeling how real it was. This was reality, he thought. Preparing himself he then tried again to push himself up on his right arm. This time the pain was too much. He thought he heard a faraway booming sound, looping over and over. Ryan shut his eyes and fell into pitch black darkness as his brain shut down.

Silence.

And then, the feeling of someone touching his face.

Ryan had not woken up in a hospital bed, hopefully feeling drugged out of his mind like he’d expected, but rather in the ambulance as they finished loading him up into it. Two Canadian ambulance workers were talking to him, trying to get his attention.

“Ryan,” they repeated over and over again. One was getting an IV drop into him while the other looked his body over for damage. It smelled faintly of gasoline.

“His vitals seem to be okay. I can’t find anything apart from bruises and shock,” one of them said and Ryan inhaled as the ambulance bounced on the uneven road.

“M-my” Ryan started, trying to speak. The IV lady was instantly looking at him, nodding for him to continue.

“My friend...s” Ryan finally got out, his tongue feeling too heavy in his wet mouth. He recognized the taste of iron, knew what it was.

“They’re in your car just behind us, sweetie, don’t worry about it,” she said and Ryan almost imitated her pronunciation of ‘ _about_ ’ aloud.

“Are they o-okay?” he asked instead, frowning. He didn’t really feel much pain and wondered if his body was going on adrenaline, still not catching up to what had happened yet.

“They’re all fine, don’t worry, Ryan. You’re the only one that got hit,” she assured him and Ryan nodded, believed her. So what if it didn’t really add up? He could think about that later, he decided as sleep enveloped him once more.

***-***-***

And think about it later, Ryan did.

He knew what he saw.

After spending a week in the Canadian hospital respectively the hotel Ryan then flew back home, his crew having already left. Both Shane and Mark had offered to stay but Ryan had convinced them to go home.

Ryan knew what he saw.

And it took him two weeks before he confronted Shane, right then and there in the office. Ryan admitted to himself he didn’t have the balls to do it where it would just be the two of them alone, so at work it was. He didn’t feel like it would be sane to get the demon alone and then call him out.

After all, Brad had seen him too. Ryan had heard him scream in fear. When Ryan asked the cameraman he said he hadn’t seen anything though. In Brad’s words he had been turned the wrong way when Ryan got hit. Which clearly didn’t add up with Ryan’s memory of him screaming bloody murder.

According to his story Ryan had gotten hit by the car, no one else, not anyone with horns, and Ryan miraculously wasn’t hurt apart from his broken arm. Ryan had an idea how it had all happened, in reality. Because he remembered the speed of the car coming at him. While his body hadn’t been hit by the other car he had been pulled to the side or maybe up into the air by someone. As a consequence his shoulder had been dislodged and his wrist fractured.

Ryan remembered, and he knew what he saw.

So, right then and there in a Buzzfeed meeting room, Ryan said those words to Shane.

Shane had his arms crossed and his face was blank, standing straight. Ryan had to tilt his head back to meet his eyes and Shane looked down at him with lidded eyes, but he was listening.

Ryan could hear his own heartbeat in his chest, yet he stood his ground.

Then Shane tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment, as in exasperation.

“So you weren’t knocked out, Shane sighed, and it wasn’t a question.

Ryan stared at him, mouth hanging open. He had been ready for a fight, for the other to at least try to deny it.

In a small meeting room, on a regular Tuesday, Shane had simply admitted it, shrugged his shoulders and sighed aloud. He was wearing his Hawaiian shirt and Ryan stared at the print in silence, having at least closed his mouth when he caught himself.

Then he looked up and met Shane’s eyes.

“Brad?” Ryan breathed, his nostrils flaring. He was scared, but convinced himself to remain brave, or as brave can be. Shane looked mostly tired.

“Altered his memory, Mark’s too.”

“Jesus,” Ryan inadvertently gasped, taking a step back. He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation.

“Why not mine, then?” he asked but as soon as he heard his words aloud he hurried to add, “Not that I want you to do it- don’t you fucking do-dare to do it, demon!”

Shane looked at him, appearing impassive to the threats. Which, considering the fact that he allegedly, truly was a demon and Ryan only human, made sense.

He kept his space however. Perhaps it was because of the Evian bottle Ryan held in his hands. He had taken the lid off, ready to throw the contents onto the other if Shane tried something. If demons were real, holy water had to be too, Ryan assumed.

In addition, if someone decided to watch the surveillance camera in that particular room it would just look like two people talking about something serious, one not being able to decide if he wanted to drink or not.

“I didn’t know you were awake. You surely seemed out of it in the ambulance,” Shane mumbled. “Buy are you sure you don’t want oblivion? Everything would go back to normal and you wouldn’t stand here, close to getting a stroke.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Ryan spat, clenching the bottle in his hand, the plastic crackling.

When the other didn’t reply, just kept staring at Ryan like he was observing him, the human snapped.

“What the fuck does that mean, Shane,” he hissed. The demon sighed before replying.

“I can not only hear your heart going crazy but also feel your fear, Ryan.”

Ryan pressed his lips tightly together but felt them shaking. He was trying really hard not to cry. He felt gross all over; cold and alone. Everything was a lie, had always been, and Ryan felt betrayed. Would oblivion maybe be better? Ryan felt horrible. He missed his friend that now, no longer existed.

He glanced back up at this stranger’s face. “My fear?”

“Think of it like a seventh sense,” Shane shrugged.

“What? Like a fucking empath?”

“Empath’s aren’t real, Ryan,” Shane deadpanned. “But yes, we sense emotions. It’s just another sense.”

Silence fell over the room. Ryan didn’t know what to say. He had imagined this playing out in at least ten different scenarios, and he had gone over about a hundred questions in his head. Now he was stumped for words.

“I see confusion and fear,” Shane said, sounding somber but earnest, “Hurt.”

“Are you Shane Madej?” Ryan asked, because he couldn’t remember any other question he had prepared.

“I am the Shane Madej you know.”

“So you were not always.”

“No.”

Ryan sighed, looking down at the bottle in his hands. Through the clear water and plastic he could see his shoes. His ‘ghoul hunting boots’. Shane wasn’t wearing his, he noted.

“Are you going to kill me?” he asked.

“No, Ryan,” Shane casually said, but it was instant. Ryan presumed he was supposed to feel some relief at that, but somehow he didn’t. He just felt bitter.

“However, I would like to alter your memory-”

Ryan instantly took another step backwards, twitching.

“-but if you don’t want me to I won’t do it.” Shane finished, and he sounded honest. Though Ryan guessed that didn’t mean shit anymore.

Laughing voices could be heard outside of the door and Ryan briefly listened as some people passed in the hallway, presumably on their way to get lunch. It was midday after all.

“But, you know you can’t tell anyone, Ryan.” Shane said, and while he sounded sorry the human had also expected those words at one point, having imagined them in one of the scenarios he had thought of. If he had to be completely honest Ryan had expected a fight, perhaps he’d even splash Shane’s face with holy water and sprint outside. Would he get his colleagues in danger if he did?

“Don’t even think about it,” Shane suddenly said and Ryan looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“Again, I can sense your adrenaline and I know a human’s fight or flight instinct,” Shane said, face back to blank and Ryan gulped.

“I won’t hurt you but I will erase your memory if I have to. Or another demon will, so don’t do anything stupid, Ryan. I know you want to be brave and perhaps play the hero part here, but it’ll just get you and those involved in trouble. You don’t mess with Hell.”

 _“Mess with Hell,”_ Ryan repeated, releasing a defeated chuckle at that. He felt completely beaten, all courage gone.

“I’m sorry. I never wanted you to know,” Shane offered but Ryan just huffed a mocking laugh at that. Perhaps Shane truly didn’t, but here they were, and Ryan realized he would never choose oblivion, even if it was sweeter.

Ryan remembered the feeling of rain-wet grass and flowers caressing his arms with the wind, gravel under his body and the night sky above. Shane in front of him, limping around the car, the red brake lights bright in the night. His horns.

“Why did you save my life?” Ryan asked, frowning again.

“Thanks,” Shane huffed, sounding insulted, “But despite popular belief we’re not just pure evil beings with sinful and heinous intent. Perhaps some begin like that, or some don’t, I don’t know, but we’re not as one dimensional as you seemingly think. We’re much more similar to humans than you’d probably like to believe, Ryan. Because I assume it ruins the image of demons you already have neatly drawn out.”

Ryan ignored the latter words and focused on the first part. “So why did you?”

“Because you’re my friend,” Shane said, as it was the most obvious explanation in the world.

If Ryan had ever doubted a higher power he didn’t think he ever would again. Because at that point, where he stood clueless to what to reply, he was suddenly saved from the situation all together. Because apparently the Buzzfeed Tasty team had been cooking up some advanced Maori dish upstairs and set off the fire alarm.

Ryan jumped at the noise, spinning around wide eyed to look outside the door. He turned back to Shane who just shrugged and they exited the building together with their other colleagues, heading towards the parking lot.

Some were laughing outside, some were worried, though most people were annoyed. Ryan stood next to a new intern who took a moment to enjoy the sunlight, closing her eyes as they waited. To his right he could see Shane over the heads of other Buzzfeed workers, and he laughed with Curly at something he said.

Ryan went home for the day after that.

***-***-***

Olivia was sitting in front of the tv, her stuffed horse “Horsie” in her arms, watching Spongebob. Her hair was still wet from the bath Ryan had helped her with.

Ryan was standing in the doorway, watching her silently. He was waiting for the rice to boil, watching the TV screen for a moment. Deep in thought he couldn’t even pretend to laugh at the jokes of the yellow sponge-man. But when Olivia let out a giggle Ryan absentmindedly smiled to himself.

“She’ll be fine,” someone said behind him and Ryan turned to Shane. He was standing in the kitchen, having finished cutting up beef for the stroganoff. Ryan studied him, comparing him to the old Shane he knew. Firstly he seemed more fit, for sure, and Ryan assumed hard labor work would do that to you. Shane had said something about having to carry a lot of heavy boxes of wheat and groceries for the B&B back in Poland.

He also looked a little older, Ryan realized. The smile lines around his eyes were more prominent, and while Shane still had full lush hair one of those strands could definitely be considered graying in color.

“You’re getting old,” Ryan said. Then he closed his mouth, cursing his tendency to not think properly before speaking.

Shane only smiled however, those smile wrinkles growing more noticeable now that Ryan thought about it.

“You shouldn’t mock others for their gray hairs when you don’t have any yourself,” Shane said and Ryan rolled his eyes.

“You know what I meant, big guy,” Ryan said, and once again caught himself, staring at the pot with rice in it. It had been so long since he said those words, called Shane that nickname, yet they just rolled off his tongue with ease.

“Of course I’m aging,” Shane acknowledged, shrugging. “I’m a public-enough-figure. Not everyone has a hundred thousand followers on Twitter, Ryan.”

“You don’t even use your Twitter anymore,” Ryan snorted.

“That’s not true. I’m just not as active,” Shane pointed out.

Ryan rolled his eyes, fetching yesterday’s leftover salad from the fridge.

“This is one of the most famous people I’ve been, and I’m planning to grow old as Shane. If I want to try immortality again I could, but it wouldn’t be wise to do it as someone who's been in the eye of the media,” Shane explained.

Ryan thought about that as he set the table. He then realized he had only made the table for three. He fetched another plate and cutlery.

“It sounds like you’ve been many people,” Ryan casually said. He turned around to meet Shane’s eyes. The demon shrugged again.

“I’ve been many people,” he confirmed.

“Can I ask how many?” Ryan asked, crossing his arms.

“Too many,” Shane smiled. At that moment he looked tired, experienced. Ryan imagined it would be tiring, living forever.

“Eternity isn’t as great as people say?” Ryan asked and Shane chuckled. But he didn’t deny nor agree with that statement.

Jackson walked into the kitchen, hair also wet from his bath. He looked at the food, making a small grimace, before he left for his room. Ryan rolled his eyes at his son and turned back to the rice which was finally boiling.

“Who was your favorite then?” Ryan asked and Shane hummed a questioning sound from where he had sat down at the kitchen table.

“Your favorite hum- life, human life, I guess,” Ryan said, not sure what to call it.

“You’re curious today,” Shane murmured behind him.

“I’ve been curious even before I found out, man,” Ryan clarified. Which was legitimately accurate.

“True,” Shane chuckled.

Ryan put the beef in the pan, the meat crackling loudly as the heat was on too high. He lowered it and turned on the kitchen fan.

When Shane didn’t reply Ryan turned around to look at him. Shane was resting his chin in his hand, watching Ryan. The human couldn’t help but feel a bit intimidated by the way he was being observed.

“What?” Ryan weakly mumbled.

“I like this life. I loved Unsolved and I enjoyed working at Buzzfeed,” Shane said, “I think Stefan would’ve liked it too, except he would’ve never moved to the states. And he also believed in ghosts.”

“How old was he? When…?” Ryan asked, glancing towards the doorway to make sure none of his children were listening in.

“17,” Shane replied.

Ryan didn’t ask, but the question hung in the air. Shane looked out the window.

“He wasn’t a happy child.”

“I see,” Ryan whispered, pushing the beef around the pan with a spatula. He thought about Tony’s pocket knife he had handed over to the curator.

“Can I ask… how?” Ryan breathed.

“You can,” Shane said.

“But later,” he then added, and in just a few seconds Olivia walked into the kitchen. She had brought her horse, a coloring book and a pen case. She jumped up into the chair beside Shane, pushing away the plates and cutlery to place her book between the two.

“I want to show you my drawings,” she told Shane and opened the pen case to pick out a bright green pen. She then started going through her book, pointing to the drawings and colors she had chosen. She also explained an over-simplified version of the water cycle, Ryan watching her draw it out for Shane on an empty page. Shane just nodded, picking up a pen himself to add little things to her drawing.

***-***-***

The job hunting didn’t go too well, and Ryan had been staring at an email reply of rejection for a good couple of minutes.

It was silent in the apartment, the kids at school and Shane not replying to text messages. He had stayed over another night last week, the day he’d helped Ryan find Olivia. Now it was Tuesday the following week and Ryan already felt like all motivation to find a new job had washed down the drain from that morning’s shower.

“Get it together,” he said to himself, voice muffled from where he had his face in his hands.

He opened the tab where he had his resumé written in a Google document reading through it once more. For one of his listed jobs where he had worked as journalist staff for a Pride event in Los Angeles a couple years ago, he couldn’t find the report. Ryan assumed it wasn’t one of the important jobs anyone would ask for his experience from, but it still bothered him he couldn’t find it. He knew he had it somewhere, and he wanted to add it to the attached records of other jobs.

Ryan got up from the couch and into his bedroom. He had a small desk in there which was most of the time cluttered with things like clothes. Had had time to clean up the apartment though, last week, and Ryan scratched his head. He wasn’t sure where to begin, but grabbed two of the plastic magazine holders which both had papers sticking up in all directions.

It was mostly invoices and receipts of things he’d bought, and those older than three years he discarded. It was satisfying but also surprisingly emotional. Because among many papers was a parenting brochure. Except it was directed at single fathers. Ryan stared at it, at the folded edges and crumpled look. He must’ve squeezed it in anger or something, he assumed.

Ryan thought he was doing okay with Jackson and Olivia. He hadn’t been alone for Jackson’s first three years, but his wife never got to see Olivia.

Breaking his train of thought Ryan grabbed his phone and put on a random podcast about basketball, letting the words distract him from digging up old wounds.

Nearly an hour later Ryan had gone through most of his documents and made three neat piles of Important documents, Papers to throw away and Children’s drawings.

He fetched a paper bag in the kitchen with the intent of throwing trash away when he heard the doorbell ring.

Ryan fished up his phone from his pocket, pausing the podcast, and the apartment went silent again. He hadn’t received any texts, he noted, looking at the blank screen on his phone. His wallpaper was both his kids at the football game he’d taken them to last year. Olivia was swimming in Ryan’s basketball jersey and Jackson looked more interested in the hot dog in his hand than the game.

Ryan went up to the door, and stopped himself from grabbing the door handle. He leaned forwards to glance through the peephole first.

On the other side stood a short man in a suit, his head bald and his skin dark. He appeared bored.

He sort of looked like a salesman, and he was carrying a folder in his hands. Ryan couldn’t help but to shiver as the man looked straight into the peephole.

Ryan decided to man up and opened the door slightly. He discovered the guy was shorter than him, perhaps a bit older, but didn’t look very intimidating.

“Yes?” Ryan asked, a hand on his door, ready to shut it if the man tried something.

“Ryan Bergara?” the man asked and Ryan frowned but nodded.

“What do you want?”

“I’m here because of Ukobach David Popescu. How do you want to receive payment?”

Ryan stared at him, eyes slowly widening.

The man stared back, looking bored.

As Ryan felt his heart speed up the man looked down at his chest.

And Ryan promptly slammed the door shut. Even though he knew it locked when he did so he still leaned back against it, staring wide-eyed into his apartment as his pulse was going haywire.

“Whatthefuck, whatthefuck, whatthefuck,” he whispered to himself.

“Mr. Bergara,” someone said outside the door and Ryan jumped away from it. He scrambled for his phone and called Shane’s number.

“You bitch, you better pick up,” Ryan hissed, walking around in a circle in his hallway. He was terrified, feeling close to passing out. He was getting lightheaded, he realized, and stopped to take a few couple breaths.

“Mr. Bergara?” the man called again, but then Shane finally picked up.

“Yeah?”

“Shane, there’s a fucking demon outside my door, I’m sure of it,” Ryan hissed, holding a hand over his mouth and phone in case the man was listeing through the door. He knew Shane had immensely good hearing and assumed the man outside did too. He had to be a demon. How else would he know Ukobach?

“What? Ryan calm down,” Shane said and Ryan gasped.

“Don’t you fucking tell me to fucking calm down! There’s a demon outside my fucking door, sent by Ukobach,” Ryan whispered agressivley, his pronounciation of the name soundin way off from what Shane and the man outside had called him. Red Suit, Ryan thought briefly.

“What?!” Shane asked, and now he sounded like he was taking it seriously.

“What do I do? Shit, Shane, he’s right outside! I opened the door and I spoke to him! I don’t even have holy water,” Ryan cried.

“Salt!” both of them then said into the phone at the same time.

“Get the salt and put it in a circle around you, I’ll be there in a minute, Ryan,” Shane yelled and then hung up. Ryan scrambled into the kitchen, nearly sliding on the floor with his bamboo socks, and opened the pantry. There was a half-full package of salt in there and Ryan almost dropped it onto his face as he grabbed it. He ran back into the hallway, splashing some salt onto the door before he made a line across the floor.

But this wouldn’t isolate him, he realized as he turned his head towards the window. He knew Shane could do the smoke, mist thing and clearly wasn’t bound to the ground.

Ryan ran back into the kitchen and put it around himself on the kitchen floor, then immediately started worrying if he made it too small. Would the demon be able to reach over the edge?

Ryan stared at his phone, still panting, and watched another minute go by. Then another, and another. He unlocked his phone to text Shane, asking where the hell he was.

When there was no reply, no call, five minutes later Ryan started to panic. He imagined Shane running into the demon in the apartment stairway outside. Perhaps the other demon was stronger than Shane.

“Shane?” Ryan called, hearing how shaky his voice sounded.

Then his phone vibrated and he nearly dropped it. He looked down at a text where Shane was asking him to open the door.

Ryan took one step out from the circle, then hesitated. Was this really Shane? What if the man had taken his phone and was trying to lure him outside.

The salt line in front of the door was still intact, some of it having fallen onto one of Jackson’s pair of jogging shoes when Ryan threw it out earlier. Ryan always scolded his kids for placing their shoes in front of the door.

Without touching the salt Ryan leaned forwards, looking through the peephole again.

Shane was standing outside, the bald demon behind him. They both somehow looked bored. Shane then glanced at the peephole, like he knew Ryan was watching them.

“Ryan, open the door, it’s fine,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Shane said, and it looked like he sighed.

Ryan narrowed his eyes.

“Are you really Shane?” Ryan asked and watched his friend laugh, the demon behind him looking annoyed now. He mumbled something and Shane said something back, something Ryan couldn’t hear.

“Yes, it’s me. I’ll explain why he’s here when we’re inside, Ryan,” Shane said. Ryan heard a door open somewhere, presumably one of the other apartments, and Ryan unlocked the door.

Both Shane and the man looked at him, paused, then down at the salt line at the same time. Neither of them said anything.

“Would you, uh, please remove that?” Shane asked, an awkward smile on his face.

Ryan stared at them, a shiver running down his spine.

“How do I know you’re Shane?” he asked.

The bald man then rubbed a hand over his face. “I hate humans,” he groaned to himself in a defeated voice.

“It’s me, Ryan. We had beef stroganoff together last week. Your night shirt has Ellen Ripley on it,” Shane said, seemingly trying to come up with proof that someone from outside wouldn’t know. It was enough for Ryan, however, and he leaned down to scoop the salt to the side. He’d have to properly clean it up later.

Shane walked over the spot Ryan had cleaned of salt, the other man following him inside. He closed the door behind him and Ryan crossed his arms, turning to them.

“Uh, yeah, so this is Onyilogwu Orji, he’s from… uh, Hell,” Shane explained, gesturing to the other man. Ryan stared at him, keeping his distance.

“I have other matters to attend to,” the man, Orji-something said. He turned to Ryan again.

“Mr. Bergara. I’m here because of Ukobach David Popescu. How do you want to receive payment?” he repeated and Ryan stared at him before looking at Shane for support.

“Right…“Shane said, pausing. “So he’s probably in a bit of a hurry so we’ll do this quick and he can leave, okay?”

Ryan nodded.

“Do you, Ryan Bergara, agree that I accept payment in your stead?” Shane asked and Ryan felt absolutely clueless. Nonetheless, he assumed Shane knew what was best and he nodded. Shane gestured for him to speak.

“Uh, yeah. Sure, yes,” Ryan said and then watched Orji pick up his folder, open it and then drag his thumb across the paper or whatever was inside.

“And I’ll take human money, in dollars to my bank account. Shane Alexander Madej is the human tied to my file,” Shane said, having turned to Orji and the demon nodded.

“It is. It will be handled automatically then, and it usually takes two business days before you will see the money in your bank account. We also use tax free transfers so you-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shane interrupted him. “I know. Now leave.

“Thank you for today, gentlemen. Hail Satan,” he said, then turned around, carefully sidestepping the salt line and exiting the apartment.

Shane closed the door after him, also mindful of the salt on the floor. When he turned back around Ryan was staring intensely at him.

“You. Talk. Now,” was all he said, looking close to murderous.

“Okay, let’s sit down,” Shane sighed, heading over to the couch. As he moved Ryan’s laptop the screen woke up and Shane glanced at the open resumé. Ryan snatched it from him and closed the lid. He sat down opposite him on the couch, pointing at him.

“Okay, okay,” Shane said, holding his hands up in surrender. “So that was indeed a demon, but one from the legal department of contracts and stuff.”

“Of what now?”

“They just want to do their job, they don’t really care about anything else. He came here because you fulfilled a contract, obviously unknowingly, but Ukobach must’ve had one on his head. You exorcised him, not me, so the payment is yours for the contract on his head.”

Ryan stared at him.

“Wait, you never said I actually killed him though,” he said, voice growing louder. Shane leaned back from the sound, grimacing a little.

“You didn’t, he’s in hell, don’t worry.”

“Shane, there was a demon in my fucking apartment!” Ryan pointed to the door. Then he noticed Shane’s small smile and rolled his eyes, realizing what apparently was very funny.

“Fuck off. And don’t tell me to not worry! What if my kids had been home?” Ryan hissed.

“I’m sorry about that, I didn’t know Ukobach had a contract on him, I guess I should’ve looked that up after you exorcised him. It just didn’t cross my mind.”

Ryan stared at the window. It really sounded like this was out of Shane’s control, but he was still mad. He had gotten thoroughly scared. Added to the fact that he also wasted half a package of perfectly good salt.

“And I promise you, contract lawyer demons are just interested in doing their job. Think of them as the… elves in Harry Potter.”

Ryan stared at him in silence once again.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, the small elves that run the bank. This is similar-

“They’re called goblins, Shane.”

“-to them, goblins, yes,” Shane said, smiling sheepishly. “They just want to do their jobs.”

Ryan rubbed a hand over his forehead.

“They’re weaksauce, Ryan. Nerd lawyers. They couldn’t and wouldn’t hurt a fly,” he continued explaining and Ryan finally released a weak laugh.

“God, shut up,” he said, head in his hands.

Shane laughed above him.

***-***-***

“Hey, wait a moment,” Ryan caught himself. They were seated in front of the TV the day after, watching the third remake of The Thing which had released just last year. Ryan had already seen it, but apparently not Shane. It wasn’t very good, and was more fun to laugh at than watch seriously.

“Hmm?” Shane asked, reaching for more popcorn.

“Wasn’t that my money then? Shouldn’t I at least get half?” Ryan asked.

“Oh, yeah, I Venmo’d it to you earlier,” Shane said, wiggling further down into the sofa. His long legs were stretched over the table, something Ryan usually didn’t let his kids do. Only because they sometimes ate on that table, after all. He knew he had an old footstool somewhere in their storage closet though.

Ryan instantly got up to fetch his phone, typing in his passwords. Shane watched him from the couch, then paused the movie.

“Ryan,” he called and the human looked up, eyes large. It was a number, an amount just above one thousand dollars.

“Ryan,” Shane repeated, voice gentle, “I don’t want this to turn into something, okay? I’m not encouraging this. Ukobach just happened to have a contract on his ass, I didn’t know about it. It was a one time thing where you helped me, and I’m thankful, but that was it, okay? Don’t get any ideas.”

“Shane... this is a lot of money,” Ryan said, still holding his phone in his hand like it was a forgeign object.

“It is. And while I, again, don’t want to encourage whatever I know you’re thinking right now,” he said, voice pointed, “it is your money because you’re the one who did the work. I’m not going to deceive you.”

“This is a thousand dollars, Shane,” Ryan tried instead and the demon sighed loudly.

“Yes, it is, calm down. I assume you made more on your radio job-” Shane started but it was clearly the wrong thing to say as Ryan scoffed loudly before he even finished.

“Of course I fucking did, but I worked five days a week for several hours on that! And here I exercise one demon and this is what you get paid?”

“Ryan,” Shane said, and now he sounded more serious, his voice almost a growl. The human straightened up at the sound. Shane then sighed, as if catching himself. “Look, I just don’t want you to get into this. It’s not a safe job, it’s dangerous. Think about Jackson and Olivia.”

“Okay, okay, I get you,” Ryan tried to assure him, getting back onto the couch. “I’m only entertaining the thought, I’m not gonna go be a priest tomorrow. I probably don’t even have the grades to get into the priest school or whatever.”

Shane released a small chuckle, but it didn’t erase the worry Ryan could see on his face.

Ryan tried changing the subject, tapping his leg. “I have to ask though, wouldn’t it be very simple for you to trick a human into giving you the money. I just had to say yes, something I assume is very easy to get out from a human,” Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It has to be genuine, you have to mean it,” Shane explained.

“Wouldn’t a signature be the proper way to do it?” Ryan wondered, glancing back at the tv. “Me, Ryan the human Bergara, give the rights of this reward to Shane the demon Madej-sort of thing.”

“Very human of you to say that,” Shane smiled and Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“Ryan, demons were doing business before the human act of signing with a signature was a thing. And words are a lot more permanent to us. If I held a gun to your head and told you to say yes, it wouldn’t be very authentic, and the words would mean nothing. You kinda don’t even have to say it out loud, but in a way instead just really mean it. Intent, and all that.”

“Intent, and all that,” Ryan repeated to himself.

***-***-***

Ryan paid the bills for their phones and the one for his Spotify. The one’s for the apartment would come next week, but wouldn’t be a struggle anymore, considering he would still get the last payment from his job.

He slept without worrying for the first night in a while, and when Olivia crawled into his bed in the middle of the night he only pulled her closer. He knew he should encourage her to sleep on her own bed, but didn’t have the energy to for once.

It took him a couple minutes to fall back asleep and he listened to her as she talked in her sleep.

The next morning Ryan turned to Google. Now, as expected there wasn’t a lot on demons and ‘contract lawyers from Hell’ because why would there be. Ryan assumed Hell had its own internet, and he laughed at the thought of that. He wondered if heaven had it too.

“Heaven probably doesn’t have internet at all,” Shane replied after Ryan had asked, sipping from his coffee. They were sat in one of the central parks later that day as the weather was sunny for once. Ryan was wearing a jacket but had removed his beanie.

“You don’t know that,” Ryan said, eyes still closed as he was the one sat with the sun directly in his face.

“I don’t,” Shane shrugged; Ryan could hear the noise of his jacket.

Dogs were barking in the park, toddlers were screaming from strollers and children laughing loudly where they played. Ryan peeked an eye open to look at the other.

“Do you want to eat with us tonight? I’m thinking pancakes.”

“Sure, if you’ll let me pay you for the trouble,” Shane said and Ryan groaned. He should’ve expected that response.

“But it’s weird to ask you for money. You’re helping me cook after all,” Ryan tried.

“You’re job searching, and I’m not only crashing at your place now and then, but also stealing your food.”

“But you’re homeless. And Olivia was asking about you yesterday.”

“I’m looking for apartments, and I don’t mind sleeping outside. I’ve told you that,” Shane said but Ryan wouldn’t have it.

“Hey! You told me you were sleeping at a friend’s place,” Ryan complained.

“Yeah, well, that too,” Shane chuckled and the two fell quiet for a minute.

Ryan turned his head to his left where he could see some sort of painting class going on far away, students lined up before a yellow-leafed tree.

“How’s that apartment hunting going them? Without a job?” Ryan asked and finished the last of his coffee.

“Ouch,” Shane yawned. “But it’s going well, don’t you worry.”

“You… still doing those contracts?” Ryan asked, trying to sound casual. When Shane didn’t reply Ryan looked over at him again. The sun was going behind clouds and Ryan found Shane looking at him with an unimpressed look.

“...What?” Ryan asked innocently. His heart was betraying him in his chest and he was sure Shane was reading his emotions or whatever like a book.

“I’m excited because…” Ryan started, Shane raising both eyebrows, appearing amused by Ryan’s beginning of an excuse, “because of… autumn. It’s, you know, Halloween soon. Love that.”

“Mhm,” Shane nodded slowly over his own coffeecup.

“But I’m curious. About your jobs, your contracts,” Ryan tried, pouting a little. “Can’t you at least tell me a little?”

“Why should I? I know you and your dangerous curiosity,” Shane said.

“Well yeah. But I mean I kind of used to do this, before, right? So I’m obviously still interested in demons and stuff, you know,” Ryan attempted to explain, gesturing with his hands.

“Used to? Ryan, Unsolved didn’t have any real demons in it apart from me. Why would any demon want to hang around dumps like Waverly when there’s places like-” Shane started but then paused, eyes falling onto Ryan.

He then closed his mouth, paused, and took another sip of his coffee. Ryan wondered if he even had any left in that cup.

“Like?” Ryan tried.

Shane didn’t reply and instead seemed to actually finally finish his coffee, grabbing Ryan’s empty cup to toss both into a trashcan closest to him.

“Okay, so maybe I didn’t, you know, actually hunt demons and ghouls and all that, but… we explored some creepy places. And I, along with some viewers, obviously, believed there were things there. And it was exciting. I… I found it, thrilling, you know,” Ryan explained.

Shane gave him a knowing look.

“What?”

“I know you liked it because I could feel your emotions, Ryan,” Shane said. And it was just a couple words but Ryan felt a shiver run down his back while his face heated up. He turned his head to the side, trying to hide his cheeks in his hands.

“Fuck,” he weakly whispered.

Shane laughed, hands falling onto the table. “Don’t worry, a lot of humans love the sensation and buzz from getting scared. It’s why horror movies exist, after all.”

Ryan looked back at the demon. “I suppose. But I also got such a rush of adrenaline. And not only the relief when we left but also the tense excitement, I feel like I could get high of it. I miss it, so many times,” he pointed out. “And perhaps you’re telling me all episodes we did for the show never had us in any real danger. Still, I didn’t know that then, and I still did it.”

“That makes you sound a little weird, Ryan,” Shane admitted.

The human slapped one of his hands over the table. “Shut up. Please just… humor my horror-loving ass a little. Please?”

Shane took a deep sigh. A flock of birds, presumably some sort of starling, passed high above them in one single formation, cawing loudly. Ryan watched them for a moment.

“Mary Mason was a fifty one year old nurse who gave her soul up in exchange for a younger body,” Shane started, arms folded on the table. Ryan closed his mouth and leaned back, listening.

“She got two and a half years, which was actually a rather long time, from my experience. The body available for her was from here, and she moved it to Santa Catalina Island, which is where I had to go last weekend.”

“Who was… whose body was it? And what happened to her...” Ryan impatiently asked but quieted off at the look Shane was giving him. Right, let him speak.

“The demon who did the deal is one I know called Ken, and he’s currently in Egypt, which is why I’m collecting it for him. He told me Mary’s husband found her body when she ‘died’. And she was rather obese so it was simply ruled as heart failure. The body she got in the deal was that of a model with a bit of a drug problem. Ken had taken the body when she overdosed and Mary happened to get in contact with him within a week of that. How, I don’t know,” Shane shrugged.

“So… this is just… you’re collecting shitty humans?” Ryan asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Are they shitty for making deals with demons? Or because of what she bargained for?” Shane asked and Ryan didn’t know what to reply to that so he didn’t reply at all.

“Either way, she was… for the most part compliant and went with me. She tried to negotiate a new deal with me, most of them do, but when she understood there were no options she accepted her fate. She was dressed all niceley and all, so I assume she knew from the start. Ken is pretty talkative so he probably explained it all in detail.”

Ryan bit his lip, waiting for a mother with a stroller to pass them before he asked, “What happens to her? I mean her soul?”

“I collect it, bring it to hell, leave it for Ken when he goes back. He pays me in human American dollars, since that’s the currency I asked for.”

“It’s not as… epic as I had imagined, I have to admit,” Ryan said.

“Not all of them are. And collecting can be a bit of a bummer too. I don’t think all who make deals with demons deserve to die or go to Hell,” Shane added.

“What… exactly is Hell?” Ryan wondered, glancing around them. “Can I even ask you that?”

“You can ask me but I can’t explain it well,” Shane admitted. “In a sense it’s just a place, a location, like earth. It’s difficult to define its size, but I imagine it’s approximately the size of a continent. At least not smaller than Russia. And no, it’s not a fiery endless torture chamber. But we don’t really exist there like we do here. There, I’m not in this human body but rather the form that looks like smoke to you.”

Ryan nodded, feeling a little overwhelmed but still following most of it.

“And humans exists as souls there if they die and are chosen by angels to not be worthy of Heaven. And the Daycare in Hell where the souls roam is guarded by angels, actually.”

“There’s angels in Hell?” Ryan asked, eyes widening. He felt a bit of a tingle in his stomach from talking about Heaven and Hell. This was the real deal.

“Yeah. There has to be someone guarding the souls there or demons would just ravish the place.”

“Ravish? Wait… Daycare?” Ryan asked, fingers itching to write this all down. He felt like he had a hundred questions, and Shane was finally talking.

“It’s what we demons call it, because of the angels guarding it.”

“So like Purgatory?” Ryan suggested.

“As far as I know the Christian definition of Purgatory doesn’t exist. The actual name of the Daycare is The Forest, which isn’t very descriptive. So; Daycare,” Shane gestured.

“But wouldn’t it… be full? Or like, how many people are down there? And up in Heaven too?”

Shane smirked a little. “This might actually be hard for you to understand, and might ruin your idea of the afterlife, but it’s actually not eternal. Your soul after death doesn’t exist forever, but rather has a best before date too. It’s not a ‘poof’ and gone, like the body dying is, but rather a slow and kind of faded process. Souls last longer than human life, though.”

Ryan stared at the other, waiting for him to continue.

“I don’t know how humans feel, how aware they are, if they know what’s going on or if they’re even cognizant because to us souls just look like light. They do give off emotions, some sort of existence, but mostly just warmth. While I fear that they feel some emotions, I still also hope they do. Because what would otherwise be the reason for fighting so hard to get to heaven?”

“I…” Ryan started, watching another stroller pass, this time pushed by a fit father.

All this talk reminded him how in the end his life was only one amongst billions and it didn’t really matter that much, did it?

“Do you want me to stop?” Shane asked, tilting his head a little.

“Why do you fear the fact that we- that souls might feel?”

“Because on the other side of heaven apparently treating them dearly, souls are the payment most demons ask for, why we do our contracts and what we strive to do on earth. Why we come here in the first place and why we work so hard for it… And I’m not sure you want to hear me say what we do with them,” Shane said, voice calm.

“Tell me,” Ryan said, voice barely a whisper. If Shane didn’t explain it Ryan would just specalate, and probably believe incorrectly the rest of his life.

Shane met his eyes but still didn’t say anything. Ryan gulped.

“It’s… it’s what you eat, isn’t it?” he finally asked.

“Yes,” Shane admitted. He looked wary, like he was waiting for Ryan to freak out or throw a fit.

“Do you… do you need to?” Ryan looked down at the table again.

“I don’t know, I don’t think so. But I don’t know if anyone’s ever tried.”

“How many?” And there it was, the elephant in the room, the unasked question that hung in the air. ‘How many souls have you eaten?’

“As Shane Madej, less than ten,” he then replied.

“But more than five,” Ryan assumed aloud and Shane nodded. “What’s, uh, I’m gonna regret asking but what does it taste like?”

Shane chuckled at Ryan’s grimace.

“Well, it’s not exactly eating in the sense of,” Shane clanked his teeth together twice like taking a bite, “it’s more like consuming, or absorbing, I think. In the simplest way to explain its energy, and pleasant feelings, and human emotions. The closest thing for you would be an orgasm, I guess.”

“Ah,” Ryan said, biting his tongue.

***-***-***

“Can I finally ask how it went, or are we still avoiding that subject?” Shane eventually asked, folding his legs over the small footstool.

The TV was on in the living room and it was the only light source, flashing rays of color onto the three figures on the couch. Ryan was leaning against one end, head supported by a pillow, his feet resting flat against Shane’s thigh. On his chest and across his body laid a snoring and exhausted Olivia with one braid undone. Ryan could feel slight wetness where her mouth was open against his white dress shirt.

His neck hurt from having to tilt it to the left towards the TV so he looked over at Shane in the darkness. The documentary was on forest fires in North America, but Ryan had turned the volume down since noticing his daughter having fallen asleep.

Shane kept his eyes on the screen.

“Sure, if you have to,” Ryan groaned.

“I don’t, but I’m curious. You’ve been on edge since I picked you up.”

Ryan had gotten through two job interviews, one for a position as a journalist and the other as a video editor. The first one had gone okay, but been shorter than he expected.

Ryan had initially asked his cousin for help with picking up his kids for school but she had been busy. He knew he could ask one of his (now) ex colleagues, and one friend he shared a love of basketball with, but he was almost 100% sure he would get a no since both were working regular jobs. So he asked Shane.

Because of this Shane had taken both Olivia and Jackson to school while Ryan had taken the train an hour earlier to get over to the location of the first interview. It was much hotter outside than he had expected and he had to carry his jacket over his arm. A woman entering the train was dangerously close to getting frappuccino on his shirt and Ryan wondered if it was an omen of some sort.

Again, the first interview went okay but the office was really busy, the agent clearly having a few more appointments with others. Ryan tried to stand out as much as possible and showed his other work. One out of the two interns had recalled watching Unsolved and Ryan wanted to kiss her afterwards. It obviously made the agent nod in curiosity.

Then, with a few hours to spare Ryan just hung around the city. He didn’t have enough time to take the train home and then back, so he ended up doing some shopping and picked up a new edition of some comic book he was fairly sure Jackson liked. The trouble was remembering which ones he already had. The main issue, however, was that Ryan had two children, and giving one a spontaneous gift and not the other could have catastrophic consequences. He wanted to encourage Olivia to read, just like Jackson, so he got her a book depicting a more modern Casper the Ghost. Ryan had loved Casper as a child after all.

After a quick lunch, where he luckily didn’t spill on his white dress shirt, he finally made it to the other interview. Which did not go as well.

The interviewer really put him on the spot and quizzed him on his knowledge, and even asked him how he could compete with newly graduated students. Ryan had to pause for a second before replying something about his experience and background but he could tell she wasn’t having it. Yet, this interview took much longer time and Ryan felt like throwing up afterwards.

He took the train back and assumed Shane should be on his way picking up both Olivia and Jackson about this time. He texted to make sure and got a selfie with the three of them in the car. Ryan grinned at his phone, seeing that both of his children had been treated to some ice cream.

Finally at home Ryan had been met by two very happy kids when both had received spontaneous presents. Shane had stayed for the payment of chauffeuring which consisted of carbonara and red wine. Now he had finally brought up the interview Ryan hadn’t mentioned for the entirety of the day.

Ryan sighed.

“I think the first interview went okay, but the second one not so much,” Ryan explained. “Problem is, the first one would force me back into traveling, and I don’t think I can leave my kids alone for several days.”

Shane nodded slowly.

“Restrictions of being a single parent, you know,” Ryan weakly laughed, but it fell flat.

Shane gave him a sympathetic look. “There are still many jobs out there. Perhaps this was just an appetizer of job interviews before you find the perfect one.”

“Why are you so f- so optimistic?” Ryan asked, glancing at his daughter.

“Because one of us has to be. It’s not fun job-searching, I know that, so I feel for you,” he shrugged.

“Really?” Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever not gotten the job you wanted?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shane asked back, twirling the remote in his hands.

Ryan gently pulled his fingers over his daughter’s hair again before cupping his hand over her ear. He was sure she was asleep but didn’t want to risk it.

“Never used any demonic influence or something like that?”

Shane turned his head back towards the TV but Ryan could see the small smirk in the dark.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“Buzzfeed?” Ryan asked, curiosity growing.

“No,” Shane simply said.

“Have you ever…” Ryan started, narrowing his eyes.

“What is this? An interview?” Shane asked, squeezing Ryan’s foot. The human pulled his leg back and Olivia released a sigh from being moved in her sleep. Ryan went back to absentmindedly stroking her hair.

“Have you ever done something to me?” He asked nonetheless. “Without me knowing, I mean.”

Shane tilted his head, opened his mouth but then shut it. Ryan was about to argue but the demon shook his head in front of him. A couple seconds later Ryan heard the floor creaking behind him and turned his head the best he could.

“The internet isn’t working,” Jackson said, his voice tired.

“Oh dear,” Shane said and Ryan rolled his eyes.

“I’ll check the router, but it’s late anyway, Jack,” Ryan said, finally sitting up. Olivia whined loudly in his arms, letting out a weak cry when he tried to get her to stand.

“I was talking to my friends, can you please hurry,” Jackson tried, bouncing on his feet.

Ryan sighed but placed Olivia on the couch, watching her curl up into a ball, seemingly asleep in seconds again.

The router just needed a restart but Ryan pretended to fiddle with the buttons and cords for a little while as it blinked with its many lights. In reality, Ryan had no clue what most of the ports or little symbols meant but Jackson looked impressed enough.

With the internet back up Ryan gave him twenty minutes before it was bedtime.

Ryan woke Olivia and promised her she could go back asleep after she had brushed her teeth. Shane watched the two with a small smile.

Ryan silently nodded his head towards his bedroom in question and Shane shrugged. Ryan smiled and nodded towards it again, confirming that ‘yes, you should sleep here tonight then’.

Shane’s mattress was now a permanent piece of the decor of his room, and Ryan didn’t bother to remove it even when Shane was away for a day or two. He enjoyed the company, and probably the feeling of helping a friend.

A friend.

Ryan supposed he could call Shane that now again.

He watched his daughter climb over to Shane to rest her head on his leg, pretending to hide from Ryan.

“Come on, Olivia,” the demon chuckled, easily picking her up bridal style. “We don’t want our teeth to fall out, do we?”

Ryan cleaned up the living room quickly, glancing out outside. Only a couple windows were lit up like squares across the other apartment building across theirs. Ryan remembered to turn his plant around once again on the window sill and then headed towards the bathroom.

There was somehow something very warming about seeing his old friend tower over Olivia, both with toothbrushes in their mouths, making faces at each other, giggles filling the room. He tried to hide his smile as he entered the bathroom to grab his own toothbrush. Olivia giggled at Shane’s grimace and Ryan felt the corners of his mouth twitch.


	4. Chapter 4

Perhaps it was because Ryan used the word as leverage, that Shane finally caved in.

“As a _friend_ , I’m asking you,” Ryan had said.

“No,” Shane had replied.

They were sitting in Ryan’s kitchen again, Ryan eating leftover carbonara and Shane drinking coffee. It was still sunny outside and Ryan thought about taking the kids to the beach after school if the weather lasted.

However, Ryan put all his cards on the table in front of them, ready to deal. He wanted to at least give Shane his side of it. And he had thought about it for a couple nights now.

“I miss it, man,” he explained, “I want to try it.”

“Try what?” Shane asked, but his eyes were narrowed.

“Getting out there again,” Ryan said. “The thing with Ukobach wasn’t exactly fun, but it somehow felt… amazing afterwards. He was a bad guy, right? There had to be a reason he had a contract on his head. And I got paid too-”

“Ryan,” Shane warned him and Ryan straightened up. “I won’t even humor you if it’s only for the money.”

“Okay, it’s not, I just wanted to mention it. I mean I’m obviously still looking for a job. But,” Ryan paused, tying his hands in his lap. “It felt good, I… getting bad demons off the street? If it saves people, I wanna do that. Try it once at least.”

Shane sighed, before taking another sip of his coffee, meeting Ryan’s eyes over the cup.

“It’s sort of like being a police, but instead of human criminals it’s demon criminals, right?”

Ryan didn’t miss the roll of eye from Shane.

“Ryan,” the demon sighed, “It’s dangerous, above everything else. I’m not going to find a contract on another demon and just hand it over to you. With or without my help, I refuse to put you at such a risk.”

The rest of the carbonara had gotten cold on his abandoned plate.

“Then what about what you do? You said there are priests or whatever working f-for hell, right? With demons?”

“Not necessarily, but sometimes. There are certain contracts we can’t do on our own, where we need help from humans. We can either put in requests or try ourselves.”

“Try to what?” Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“To collect the soul of the human who made a deal,” Shane explained, his face blank.

Ryan looked back down at his tied fingers, the table worn under his hands. A short, dark blue line was drawn on the table in permanent inc, one of those pens Ryan had mistakenly given Olivia to draw with a year or so ago.

The human took a deep breath and met Shane’s eyes again.

“So why would you need our help?”

***-***-***

It was an old country house, a white picket fence around the property with several raspberry bushes growing inside. The place wasn’t too large and it looked like the house was only made up of one floor, with perhaps a basement. The chimney was currently smoking. The cottage resembled something Ryan imagined would be from a fairy tale, only the mechanical lawn mower out front ruining the scenery. Tall trees were peeking over the roof of the house, belonging to the dark forest behind the house. It continued far, the other directions of the house wheat fields, or some sort of cereal.

Just outside the fence around the house was a… sort of man-made moat, but instead of water it was filled deep with a white powder Ryan assumed was salt. It was dug into the ground with some sort of plastic piping, like a waterspout line. The contraption also covered the top from rain or wind with planks of metal holding the “roof” in place. It looked… kind of smart, if Ryan was honest. And it certainly seemed to work. Sure, other humans probably thought the resident was nuts, but to demons he was untouchable.

“This is…” Ryan started, hands on his hips.

Shane gave him a sheepish smile. “Yeah.”

“So what, I just break some part of it and you go in and get him? Easy like that?” Ryan asked, taking the gardening gloves out of his pockets. They had little prints of ladybugs and sunflowers on the back of the hands. It’s what $2 got him at the small supermarket on the way.

“A couple demon’s have come by to try and collect, and he’s refused every time. He’s not at the top of the priority list, which is why he’s still kicking. And obviously, because of the evident _fort_ he’s built himself,” Shane gestured forwards.

Ryan walked up to the front of the gate, staring at the line of salt. It probably wasn’t too deep, but it could take him a minute. He wondered if simply kicking the waterspout could break the line.

Doing just that made an alarm go off, however.

Ryan jumped backwards, cursing. It sounded like a doorbell ringing, not a real automatic intruder alarm. However, whatever rig it was that the man had set up, it obviously worked, and just in a matter of seconds the door slammed open.

Gary McOwen was a skinny man, his hair mostly white and his face full of wrinkles in an ever-present frown. Or perhaps his face was sour because he just spotted two strangers in front of his house, one kicking at his demon defense. That could totally be a plausible reason.

“Get lost! This is my property!” he started yelling and Ryan took a step back. He looked over his shoulder at Shane who sighed loudly, looking tired already.

“Gary, your time is up, _has_ been for a couple of months now. Time to go,” Shane said, in a tone like he was talking to a stubborn child at the playground who refused to go home.

“Never! You demon swine! You can’t get me in here! Get lost!”

“I’m going to admit, he sounded a lot cooler when you first told me about _the man with the fort_. This is just… immature,” Ryan said to Shane who let out a short laugh. “Is he really 103 years old?”

“Yep,” Shane sighed, “He wanted 20 more years,” he shrugged.

“To do what?” Ryan raised an eyebrow. The human turned back to the house only to watch Gary stomp back inside, leaving the door wide open.

Walking up to the line again Ryan bent down, putting his gloves on. He knocked on the structure and it felt rather solidly built. So he’d just have to dig up enough salt for Shane to pass then.

This really wasn’t what he had been expecting himself to do at midnight on a weekday.

“Go away, I’m warning you, demon swine!” Gary shouted from inside the house.

“Gary, a deal is a deal, man. You knew what you were getting into. Trying to cheat isn’t fair,” Ryan yelled back, then gestured to Shane behind him, “This demon right here promised to fetch your soul in a… non-violent way. Don’t make this-”

Ryan didn’t get to finish his sentence as he was suddenly pulled backwards, falling to the ground onto his back, arms flailing in the air. In front of him he watched Shane shield him with his bosy as Gary had appeared in the doorway again, this time carrying a rifle.

“Get lost! This is your last warning!” Gary yelled, and the situation suddenly didn’t feel as comical anymore. Ryan stared at the barrel of the rifle, pointied at the two of them, only visible between Shane’s legs. Gary reloaded the gun with a noise Ryan only recognized from movies or videos games. ‘Clack-clack’.

Ryan quickly scrambled to his feet, trying to calm his rising pulse as he stared into the back of Shane’s denim jacket.

“Put down the gun,” Shane demanded, and now he sounded angry.

“Fuck you, demon scum. You’ll never get me,” Gary shouted.

And then he aimed.

Ryan felt air leave his lungs in a short exhale, and he braced himself for the sound. And sure enough, a large shot echoed into the air.

“Shane!” Ryan yelled, having only seen Gary’s face light up from the small explosion of his gun as the bullet left the barrel, aimed straight at Shane’s chest.

Crows cawed in the distance of the forest as they left for flight, scared by the sound.

“I’m fine,” Shane grunted. He turned around and Ryan could see Gary staring wide eyed behind him, smoke still flowing from the rifle’s end.

“We’re leaving,” Shane muttered, and he didn’t sound alarmed at all. Ryan stared at his chest, but with the light coming only from Gary’s house he couldn’t see anything in the dark. Shane grabbed Ryan when he reached him, turning him around by the shoulders, leading him forwards, away from the house. He had both hands on Ryan’s arms, guiding him on a straight path through the wheat field while still blocking Ryan’s back with his own. The human wanted to glance over his shoulder but was afraid he’d trip if he didn’t focus on the uneven ground in front of them.

“Jesus, man, are you okay?” Ryan breathed, the hands on his back at least a little comforting. He briefly thought about that one Greek mythology tale, about the guy who had to walk down a long cave or something, and could not turn around. If he did, he'd die.

“I’m fine. Normal bullets can’t kill me,” Shane muttered. “You good?”

“ _You good_?!- Shane, you were the one who got shot! All I did was fall on my ass after you threw me at least a metre or two. T-to save my life!” Ryan hissed, but kept his quick pace.

“Yeah, well, good thing I’m not human,” Shane hummed.

Ryan let out an exasperated sigh in frustration.

They eventually reached the road and as Shane finally came to a stop Ryan dared to glance behind them. He could only see the lit up house way far in the back. He could sort of see a silhouette in the open door frame, Gary still watching them. Ryan wondered if the old man could really see that far.

Shane started walking back towards the car and Ryan followed, but felt conflicted. “What about Gary? Are we just giving up?”

“I’ll come back another day,” Shane said, sighing in frustration. He was clearly annoyed.

“Another day? The salt is still gonna be there, man,” Ryan said, following after the taller man on the gravel road. He pulled off both gardening gloves, shoving them in his pocket again.

“I’ll let another demon handle it. Or hire another human, you’re not coming, Ryan. This was a bad idea from the start.”

Ryan frowned, and stopped in his tracks. Shane obviously heard him as he followed suit, turning around to meet Ryan’s eyes.

“Why? Why was it bad? Was I that shitty at this? I mean I didn't know we’d have to do this stealthily, perhaps if you told me I wouldn’t have kicked the damn alarm-”

“That’s not what I meant, Ryan-”

“Then what did you mean?”

Shane huffed, pausing briefly.

“That I shouldn’t drag you into this. It’s good money, but at this point you’re probably safer selling cocaine on the street,” Shane said, gesturing at nothing.

“Shut up, man,” Ryan said, unable to conceal the tired laugh. “That’s the biggest lie ever.”

“Ryan, you almost got shot,” Shane said, gesturing to the bullet hole in his own t-shirt. Ryan could see it now they were away from the bright house and his eyes had adjusted to the dark. It was also not too hard to spot the blood that was clearly pooling from it, wetting Shane’s white shirt he wore underneath his open jacket.

“Jesus man, shouldn’t you get that checked at?” Ryan gasped, walking up to him, pushing their argument to the side for now.

“I just have to get it out,” Shane muttered, and continued towards the car again. Ryan followed behind, jogging up to his door to unlock it.

“Do you have any tweezers or something? A knife?” Shane asked and Ryan stared at him, his bullet wound, then the sky for a second.

“Jesus Christ,” he finished and then started digging through the front seat compartment. He didn’t have a knife in there, he knew that, but instead found packaged plastic cutlery.

“I’ve got this,” he said, holding it up. Shane grabbed it and ripped the packaging, the fork and spoon falling to the ground.

“You might wanna look away, Bergara,” Shane warned before leaning back against the car. Ryan still watched nonetheless as Shane pulled up his shirt, holding it up with his teeth while his left hand felt for the entry wound.

Needing something to do Ryan fetched the towel he had in the trunk of his car. It probably wasn’t that clean, but it would have to do. He paused in front of the demon as he watched Shane’s fingers slip around on his bloody stomach. Shane gave him an appreciative nod, dried himself up, then grabbed the plastic knife tighter in his right hand.

And Ryan felt like that was a good time to look away, turning to stare out at the fields. His eyes caught the moon and he focused on the shapes and spots on the round, big thing.

“Fuck,” Shane cursed behind him a moment later, and Ryan catiously turned only to watch Shane throw something into the fielt, presumably the bullet. Then he used the towel to wipe himself clean the best he could. It was a towel with some dinosaur movie Jackson had loved as a kid, and Ryan stared at a stegosaurus who now had demon blood all over it’s smiling face.

Did stegosauruses even have flat, human looking teeth?

“You ready to get out of here?” Shane asked, looking up at Ryan.

“Absolutely,” Ryan said, then gestured towards the other. “You- you good?”

“I’ll be in a minute. Would appreciate it if you could drive tho,” Shane grinned and Ryan laughed in relief.

It all still felt sort of surreal. Ryan’s legs were still pumping with adrenaline and he had to calm himself to not push the pedal too hard when he brought the car onto the two-lane road.

It took Ryan about five minutes before his curiosity took over and he finally asked Shane about his healing abilities.

“I could heal myself quicker, sure, but it takes energy,” Shane explained. “I could vanish the bullet as well, but I’d waste much more energy that way than just digging it out and healing in my _normal_ healing speed, so to speak.”

“Taken a lot of bullets then, have you?” Ryan asked and Shane smiled a little to himself.

“You could say that.”

Ryan blinked, watching the road in front of him. The trees on the side of the road all looked identical, looming over them.

“I…” he started but paused.

“Mhm?” Shane hummed.

Clearing his voice, Ryan tried again. “Thank you, for, you know, saving my life and stuff.”

“It’s cool man,” Shane replied and Ryan could hear the casual smile in his voice. “It’s also kinda my responsibility since I’m the one who dragged you out here in the first place.”

“Sure,” Ryan simply replied, too tired to argue again. Even though they hadn’t exactly accomplished anything tonight, sort of the opposite admittedly, Ryan really wanted that McChicken right now. Hopefully the worker in the Drive-in window wouldn’t question the bloody person in the shotgun seat.

So Ryan tried asking about something else instead.

“You’ve been stabbed by any spears or so too? Knives? Arrows? Neanderthal axes?”

“I’m not _that_ old, Ryan.” Shane said, then he laughed and added, “What, is it a kink of yours? Getting penetrated by different weapons of war?”

Ryan spluttered a “no”, keeping his eyes on the road. To be fair, this was the sort of road one would have a high chance of hitting some sort of wildlife, with the thick woods around them. Ryan felt it was reasonable for him to focus on the driving.

“But… yes to spears, knives and arrows, though,” Shane added, and Ryan instantly broke his rule about only watching the road as he gaped at the demon in the front seat of his car.

***-***-***

In the end, Gary McOwen went peacefully. As peacefully as one could go to hell, according to Shane.

They had arrived the next day at a much later time after Ryan successfully spent the entire day convincing Shane he was up for the task. Ryan must have repeated the phrase ‘It’s my contract, I took it upon myself. Let me finish it’ several times with varying adjectives.

And Shane, with his already closed bullet wound, finally gave in.

Ryan managed not to trip the alarm this time too. He kneeled on the ground, scooping up enough salt into a pile beside him, and Shane walked inside. He simply opened the door and closed it behind him. Ryan had decided to wait outside. The moon was mostly covered this time but Ryan watched the sky instead, the clouds calmly passing above him.

It didn’t take more than a minute or two before Shane stepped back outside, closing the door after him. He reached over and turned off the light to the small lamp outside, then nodded to Ryan.

Shane asked Ryan to put the salt back in its place after he stepped outside the barrier. “Gary probably told his family about the reason for the salt line, and we don’t want them to believe he was telling the truth. Just that he died of old age in his bed.”

“He was sleeping?” Ryan asked and Shane nodded.

The demon had told Ryan hell wasn’t what everyone imagined, with infinitely burning fires or people being impaled onto poles through their ass to their mouth. It was apparently rather civilized in a way; in order, and worked similarly to how earth worked, sort of.

Ryan still wasn’t sure he completely believed all of that.

“So because of other demons failing to collect this contract, this man’s soul, the price is upped?” Ryan asked, tapping his knees where he sat in the front seat. Shane turned the wheel at a left turn, watching the road.

“Yes. Think of it as… like, a medical journal, a chart of a patient in a hospital. The chart belongs to the human whose soul is up for collection. It’s been visited by other demons who’s tried to collect, but failed. Those instances are noted in the journal, with a reason of failure given. In this case I imagine you can see why no one could succeed on their own.”

“And Gary got food delivered to him,” Ryan nodded.

“Yeah. And for Gary’s chart it says three others have tried, and one of them tried twice,” Shane explained.

“Do you- I know you don’t really know, but do you think they suffer in hell? In the Daycare, or whatever,” Ryan asked.

Shane pulled them off the highway, entering the area where Ryan had his apartment. They hadn’t been gone for more than half an hour.

“I think, and this is just a speculation,” Shane started, “but that as a soul they exist with no senses, or maybe with dampened ones. They probably can’t see, hear, feel, smell and so on, but maybe… a little? Some souls tend to cluster, or swim around each other. Why they do this we don’t know. But perhaps they were close when they lived on earth? Or they just resonate with each other. Souls also feel warm, so perhaps it’s just unknowingly seeking heat, like I guess humans would do?”

Ryan frowned at the road in front of him. It was dark outside and the road signs were reflected from the car’s lights. They passed a bus and Ryan read the text on the side.

_‘We’ll take you there’_

He shuddered, hoping it wasn’t an omen or anything.

“Heaven promises to take good care of souls, but if souls can’t feel or sense anything? What is all that work for?”

“But maybe they can,” Ryan countered.

“Exactly. Who knows,” Shane shrugged, driving onto Ryan’s street.

“Only God, I suppose,” Ryan murmured as he unbuckled his seatbelt, Shane putting his car in park. The demon turned to look at him and Ryan stilled, waiting for the demon to speak.

“What?” Ryan asked when he didn’t.

“ _God_ ,” Shane said, like he was testing the word. He didn’t erupt into flames or anything, so Ryan assumed he was okay.

“I’m not sure there is a god, really,” Shane said, running his fingers through his hair.

“What?” Ryan laughed loudly in surprise. “How can you not?” he asked, feeling a bit baffled.

“Because I have no proof of there ever being one. How could things like me walk the earth if there was one?” Shane asked.

Ryan stared at him before he slapped a hand to his own face, covering his eyes. “I don’t know, Shane,” he groaned. “I’m new to this, I just recently learned about hell and heaven and daycares and contracts.”

Shane laughed from his seat, but where he was playing with the car keys Ryan could tell this was something he had grumbled over for long, most likely millenia.

“But I think there is one. Perhaps it’s naive of me, as a human, to think so but it helps me to sleep at night sometimes, okay? So why does it hurt? Whether he belongs to one of humanity’s religions or a few of them, or all of them, or hell, _none_ of them, I don’t know. But if you’re waiting for proof before you believe, then that’s fine too,” Ryan finished.

He glanced at Shane again, then reached over to pat his knee.

“You coming, you big bad demon? Or you wanna chat about heaven and God for a minute?”

Shane grimached.

***-***-***

The next day was a Thursday. Ryan had gone back home after dropping off his kids at school, only stopping on the way home to pick up a package. It was a pair of sneakers he’d ordered for Jackson’s birthday, which was coming up.

He wrapped the box in the same wrapping paper he had used last year, it was the only roll they had, and tried his best at curling the plastic ribbons. Ryan stared at the present in his hands, at the striped pattern with yellow lighting bolts.

And Ryan cried.

He sometimes did, when he was alone. When it all felt a little overwhelming. And when his kids wasn’t home to see him, he felt like it was okay to. Sometimes he cried when he was at his mom’s place, but usually he brought the kids along and he didn’t want them to see him like this. Not because he was a grown man and grown men shouldn’t cry, but because he wanted to be strong for them, whenever they missed her.

Their mother.

His wife.

Ryan took a long shower afterwards, feeling a bit better as he brewed some coffee. By lunch he got a notification that money had been sent to him. Ryan and Shane agreed on sharing the contract half and half, though both wanted to argue less on their own part. So Ryan was the one who said “50-50 and no more discussions.”

“$1,175,” Ryan read out aloud, sighing. If Shane had truly sent him the correct amount, half of the contract’s worth, that was a lot. It meant Gary was worth $2,350. Ryan stared at his ceiling.

_‘That’s a lot,’_ Ryan sent Shane a text. It didn’t take long for the reply.

_‘He evaded three before us. It was raised’_

Ryan scratched his upper arm, looking around his room. His laptop was sitting on the living room table in front of him and he reached for it after finishing his coffee. With a resolute sigh he closed the multiple tabs on job searching.

***-***-***

“John Wilder.”

“What?” Ryan asked when he realized Shane had spoken.

They were sitting on one of the many beaches in California. The weather wasn’t too warm today, but both Olivia and her friend Alice were playing in the sand, giggling and screaming when the water from the waves reached up for their bare feet.

Jackson was sitting behind Ryan and Shane in the sand, headphones on, his notebook out and full of scribbles.

“John C. Wilder. Call me John Wilder,” Shane repeated, his arms resting on his knees, still looking out towards the beach.

It was mostly empty, but also quite early on a Saturday morning. The weather forecast said it would rain later today, and going by the clouds it seemed accurate. Ryan had promised Olivia they would go to the beach today, so early it had to be.

“...why?” Ryan asked.

Shane didn’t reply, and kept his eyes on the horizon. Ryan glanced at Olivia and Alice again, making sure they didn’t stray too far. Alice being there had just been a coincidence, but her mother was sat a bit to their left, sun bathing. With the sun _covered by clouds_ , however, Ryan thought she looked quite dumb. Sure, she wasn’t the only one lazing around on the beach, but the sun wasn’t even out for god’s sake. If anything, she should be keeping track of her daughter, not just trusting Ryan to take responsibility because she had held a two minute conversation with him earlier.

Ryan cleared his throat after sending a last glare to Alice’s unknowing mother.

“John Wilder.”

He watched Shane inhale and close his eyes, and the wind somehow picked up around them. If it was Shane’s doing or just a coincidence, Ryan wasn’t sure. Then he watched as a small smile fell on the demon’s face.

“Just like riding a bike,” Shane whispered to himself and Ryan raised an eyebrow.

Shane opened his eyes, giving Ryan a small smirk.

“You once asked me,” he started, “about my favorite lives. John Wilder was one.”

Ryan immediately glanced at his son behind them, Jackson still drawing and writing on his notepad. He reached over to change the song on his phone and went back to drawing.

“I was a free man, an outlaw during the late 18th century,” Shane continued, either not caring that Jackson could potentially hear him, or aware Ryan’s son could not because of the music.

“I didn’t live long, only got to 39 I believe... But riding and traveling through the ever growing America was… freeing. Cities were still being built, railroads weren’t quite yet there, and we survived on what we stole, earned or fought for.”

Ryan stared out towards the water. “Did this remind you of that?”

Shane nodded slowly, then shrugged. “Nature was more… well, _more_ , back then. Long landscapes of grass, flowers of different kinds. Sure, people usually stank like cow shit, but it was sort of,” he paused, searching for the words, “less stressful I guess. I mean people died left and right, if it wasn’t from another man’s gun it was from tuberculosis, and if it wasn’t that it was from getting kicked by a horse,” Shane chuckled.

“I’m not sure it sounds… that nice,” Ryan admitted.

“I liked it,” Shane shrugged again, then he turned to Ryan with that wide-eyed look Ryan recognized, “but you know me, I also like the wild chaos.”

Ryan stared down at the sand. “Not too many rules or laws back then?”

“You bet,” Shane laughed.

Now knowing what Shane was Ryan recognized it, that light in his eyes, as that sort of look a wild demon would give, hungry for humanity’s fear and despair.

“Why did you want me to call you that?” Ryan asked after a moment of silence.

“His body and this one are similar. For a second I was brought back to John. He loved the sight of the ocean,” Shane gestured forwards.

“Not Johnny? Johnny Wilder-”

“Don’t call me Johnny,” Shane said instantly, and somehow it was as if a completely new person spoke. His accent was different but his voice also deeper, cold and harsh.

Ryan released a shaky laugh.

“You’ll put a bullet in me?” the human asked, daring a grin. Shane must’ve caught himself because he grinned right back, eyes wide open and teeth somehow appearing sharper.

“That’s right, you damn mouthpiece.”

Ryan, unsure what to reply to that, simply rolled his eyes. He turned his body slightly so he could watch Jackson’s drawing, also making sure he wasn’t listening in. Shane still had his eyes on where Olivia and Alice were playing.

“Valentina is another name,” Shane said about a minute later and Ryan focused on the words. “But her body is, understandably, quite the opposite of this one.”

Ryan nodded. Truth be told he hadn’t put much thought into the fact that Shane may have also possessed women. He still sort of pictured Shane, the body of Shane he knew, as a time traveler, just wearing different clothes of different decades. He knew the demon, the entity, the smoke he had seen was really Shane. He knew the bodies were all different. So of course a woman also made sense.

“I fucking hated the corsets,” Shane shuddered, “but the dresses were pretty, not gonna lie. I also spent a lot of time as her just reading. Her father was a traveling man and brought home literature from all over the world.”

“What year was it?” Ryan asked.

“Uh, not sure. It was short after Huaynaputina erupted,” Shane mumbled, eyebrows furrowing.

“Huayna what now?” Ryan asked, bringing out his phone.

“A volcano. It killed my father- Valentina’s father I mean,” Shane explained with a look, “and she… accepted me to take over her body, her life. Even though she knew what I was.”

Ryan let the words set for a moment, pretending to read on his phone. There was something in those words that sounded odd, something Shane was hesitant to say. Ryan ignored it for now as he read aloud what he found online.

“The Hyanaputina erupted in Peru in 1600, it says.“

“1600,” Shane nodded. “Yeah, it was a new millenia, I remember. We didn't care too much about dates as we do nowadays, but I remember the festivities.”

“Did the people of Peru really use the A.D/B.C counting?” Ryan asked, reading through the Wikipedia article.

“I lived in Rouen in France, though it was called Roan back then. My father was in Peru on one of his travels.”

Ryan leaned back on the towel, feeling a bit overwhelmed. He tried imagining 16th century France, a volcano erupting in Peru.

“Wow, dude. Uh, how was France?”

Shane snickered. “Also dirty, but we were part of the upper class. Rouen was sort of in the middle of _la réforme protestante,_ the european reformation,” he explained. Ryan felt a bit baffled at the accurate French accent. He was sure he had heard Shane make terrible attempts at French accents before, and now he spoke it like it was his first language. Guess he had been playing his part of regular human well.

“There was a lot of stupid arguing and killing about which religion was right,” Shane continued, rolling his eyes, “I wasn’t having any of it, I would rather read.”

“I didn’t know you knew French,” Ryan remarked, feeling a bit like an ant next to a dragon. Shane was older and much wiser than any human Ryan knew, and it was easy to forget most of the times.

“16th century French,” Shane corrected.

“Oui, oui,” Ryan smiled.

“Je connais beaucoup de langues,” Shane said, and the words certainly didn’t sound like they were coming from an American just learning to speak French.

“Don’t make me bust out Google translate here, big buy,” Ryan pleaded.

“I know many languages,” Shane translated and gave Ryan a wink before he got to his feet. Ryan watched him walk over to where Olivia was crouching in the sand. Alice was on her way to her mother, the woman looking like she was packing up her stuff.

Shane crouched down beside Olivia, pointing to what she was holding and Ryan watched as Shane also started looking for, assumably, shells in the sand.

“He’s weird,” Jackson suddenly said and Ryan turned to him.

“Do you not like Shane?” Ryan asked, reaching over to brush Jackson’s hair down. A few strands were standing up after his son had removed his headphones. Ryan’s heart was beating a bit faster as he hoped Jackson hadn’t heard much of their conversation.

His son shrugged. “No, it’s just that he’s weird.”

Ryan thought about all the kids in horror movies who could see ghosts while their parents couldn’t, or knew when someone was evil.

_‘Children usually have good intuition’._

“Shane is a little weird, yeah,” Ryan nodded with a small smile. “But I like him,” he concluded.

“His meatballs with pasta are better than yours,” Jackson admitted and his father turned to him again with his mouth wide open in disbelief and horror. Jackson simply laughed aloud.

***-***-***

The next week Ryan’s uncle passed.

Ryan’s father had called him late on Wednesday and Ryan closed himself behind his bedroom door to talk privately. Olivia and Jackson were watching TV in the living room, only Jackson turning to watch as his father left.

It had been suicide, after all.

Ryan tried to hold back the tears, but it was hopeless. He knew Tom had been lonely since his wife died, but for him to go this far?

“We’re calling it a stroke though,” Ryan’s dad had explained. “It’s what his mother wants, so we sorta gotta follow that.”

Ryan’s father and Tom were half brothers and Ryan rarely met Tom’s mother, since she was the ex of Ryan’s grandfather.

She definitely seemed like an odd old lady.

But Ryan said okay and noted down the day for the funeral. It would be the second funeral his kids had to attend. Olivia was still an infant during the first one and Jackson said he didn’t remember much.

Ryan sneaked into the bathroom after the phone call and took another long shower. Perhaps to hide from having to face his kids and reality, at least for a little while.

***-***-***

“So what did they say?” Shane asked, sat by Ryan’s kitchen table on his regular side. The image of him there was becoming more and more familiar to Ryan, and he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind having a demon in his kitchen.

He wasn’t sure his past self would believe that.

“Olivia is just excited to go to San Diego,” Ryan explained while he cleaned the counter with a damp towel. He had to rub hard at a coffee spot, biting his lip.

“Are you going to Sea World too or something?” Shane asked with a surprised laugh.

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Sea World closed like five years ago, Shane.”

“Oh, did it?” Shane hummed, appearing surprised but also satisfied. Perhaps pleasantly surprised by humans for once doing a good thing.

“I’ve told her it’s a serious thing, and though she only met Tom like twice it’s important to me. Jackson knows him from photos but since Tom’s wife died Tom wasn’t around for family gatherings and stuff,” Ryan explained.

“So why are you worried? It sounds like it’ll be fine.”

Ryan sighed, pausing after shutting the tap off, having cleaned his hands.

“I guess I’m worried Jackson will remember his mother's funeral. Or… or maybe I’ll be reminded of it and break down,” Ryan finally admitted, both to Shane but also to himself. He knew he was scared of a lot of it coming back. He still didn’t want to face that possibility.

“You’re allowed to cry Ryan, it’s a funeral-” Shane tried but Ryan interrupted him before he could finish.

“But it’s not for him! It’s not for my uncle, but f-for her,” he trailed off.

“And that’s fine too,” Shane insisted.

Ryan sighed, not completely convinced yet.

***-***-***

The funeral went fine in the end. Ryan managed to not cry, mostly because he stared at the photo of his uncle the entire ceremony, thus reminded of Tom rather than other people he’d previously lost. It was a picture of him when he was younger, with his wife beside him, and Ryan smiled in thought. It was the uncle he remembered.

Placing the rose on his coffin felt peaceful and both Olivia and Jackson did great. He could tell both were nervous but Olivia even did a curtsey after leaving her rose. Ryan wasn’t sure where she’d learned that, cause he certainly never taught her, but assumed she picked it up from watching the other ladies, or perhaps from TV.

The approximately two hour ride home was mostly quiet. On the way over they had played car games and Olivia had complained about her black dress being uncomfortable, but now it was silent. They had spent an hour checking out San Diego with Ryan's mom and dad, just going into some of the stores in town. Ryan had wanted to check out the USS Midway Museum, even though he had been once before, but knew Olivia wouldn’t have the patience for it, probably not Jackson either.

Olivia was tired when they got up into the apartment and Ryan wanted to keep her up for a while longer so she would sleep during the night, but gave up when she started whining. He got her into her pajamas just before she fell asleep in his arms and he tucked her into bed.

Jackson surprised Ryan by staying on the living room couch with his dad. He would’ve expected his son to go play video games with his online friends, but instead made popcorn for them to share when Jackson insisted he wanted to stay. The two watched one of the Harry Potter movies together and while Ryan wasn’t sure if it was the fourth or fifth one it was nice. He suspected Jackson might be trying to comfort his father a bit, and maybe he just didn’t know how to say “ _Do you want to talk about it? About your uncle?_ ”

Ryan hugged his son before he went to bed, with only a little complaining coming from Jackson. All together, Ryan went to bed feeling alright.

***-***-***

Ryan met up with Shane by the beach, not too far from the building where he’d first found him tied to a chair about two months ago.

The sun out and warm in the early morning, Ryan carrying his jacket in his arms. It was still three hours to lunch and he has dropped off his kids at school before getting a text from Shane. As far as Ryan knew Shane still hadn’t found a place of his own, and was most likely couch jumping or maybe even breaking in to sleep at places. Ryan hadn’t brought up the theory he had of Shane squatting, but he might sooner or later. He honestly didn’t mind at all when Shane crashed on his living room couch, or even when he had to prepare the mattress for him in his room.

“So, can you materialize to smoke completely?” Ryan asked, staring up at Shane who came to a stop in front of him, sunglasses blocking his view of his eyes.

“Hello to you too, Ryan,” Shane said, evidently unimpressed by Ryan’s greeting. He was holding two cups of coffee and handed one to Ryan who sheepishly smiled.

“Sorry, I- uh, sorry,” he tried but it sounded rather pathetic. Shane took a slow sip of his coffee, letting Ryan simmer in his apology for a second before he finally shrugged and started walking.

“How has your day been, man?” Ryan corrected himself, the question a bit awkward.

Ryan had spent another night researching things on demons and he had collected another set of questions he wanted to know the answer for. It wasn’t his fault he was this… - Ryan didn’t want to use the word obsessed so he went with interested- in demons and ghosts. If anything it was Shane’s fault for befriending him even after everything. Ryan tried convincing himself that made sense.

Shane finally smiled behind his cup.

“My day has been nice. But it’s ten in the morning so I sorta just woke up. Haven’t had much of, you know, _a day_ yet.”

“Alright,” Ryan sighed in defeat and Shane laughed loudly beside him.

They soon reached the streets that led closer into town and Ryan simply let Shane lead him. There was a small park area that consists of a few benches and some poorly groomed bushes. Shane picked a sort-of-bench that also served as some kind of art installation, and Ryan sat down after checking for spots or dirt. Shane who had finished his coffee on the way over moved to lie down on the bench, bending one leg over the other. With his sunglasses on it kind of looked like he was sleeping.

“So I’ve got two contracts, and it’s up to you to choose,” Shane started, Ryan glancing at two girls passing them.

“Is this the best place to discuss demon contracts?” Ryan whispered, sipping on his own coffee. It was still reeking hot and no matter how many times he watched it happen he was once again in awe at how Shane could down his coffee instantly nonetheless.

“I don’t care. No offense but humans are probably too dumb to figure out what we’re talking about.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. Shane was probably right.

“So,” Shane slapped a hand to his knee, “first one is for a man named Evan.”

Shane presented both cases while he lounged on the bench, like he was simply talking about the weather. Ryan listened intently while he watched people pass them in the park.

Evan’s case was something Ryan had sort of expected to hear sooner or later. A co-owner of a real-estate company who had sold his soul in exchange for money, a typical case according to Shane. Problem was, Evan had now set up guards at his house with water guns. Containing holy water.

“Should I bring swimming trunks?” Ryan had joked.

Leah Peterson was the second case. She had given her soul in exchange for her daughter’s life.

“Cancer,” Shane explained. “Her daughter was only six and Leah was desperate. She, uh, summoned a demon and asked to trade her soul for her daughter to be cured. Her time is up.”

Ryan frowned at Shane.

“So what’s the reason you’re bringing that case up to me? Has she recently stocked up with salt or holy water or something?”

Shane shook his head before meeting Ryan’s eyes over his glasses. “Leah is… apparently good friends with a demon.”

“A demon?” Ryan asked. It wasn’t at all what he had expected to hear.

“There aren’t a lot of details on that case yet. I’d vote for Evan. He’s a couple weeks late for collection. The last demon who tried left a lot of information,” Shane said, leaning back on the bench.

Ryan watched a group of teenagers make themselves comfortable in the grass just a short distance from them. They laid out a blanket depicting fire and Ryan frowned.

“Yeah, sure. I’m game.”

“Cool. Also, yes I can.”

“Can what?” Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“Completely materialize to the shape that looks like smoke to you,” Shane smiled, tilting his glasses down only to wink at Ryan.

***-***-***

Sooner than later, the next day in fact, the two were headed towards the fancy part of LA; Beverly Hills.

Shane had insisted they take the bus this time, just in case surveillance cameras would catch Ryan’s plate number or car model. He also told Ryan to wear a hoodie, as did Shane. It wasn’t even close to their plan of the evening but Ryan somehow felt a bit like he was on a way to rob a convenience store or something. He wasn’t sure why, he wore hoodies all the time. Perhaps it was only the nerves.

The bus took them a good deal of the way, but they still had a little more than half an hour walk to the contract’s house.

Evan Bianchi.

56 years old with a collection of about ten sports cars.

Why anyone needed ten sports cars was beyond Ryan. Apparently Evan wasn’t even italian.

“He probably won’t expect us but I learned he has hired more guards. Evan knew the date the demon was coming to collect so he prepared himself. That's the only attempt that’s been made this far, and it failed, obviously,” Shane waved his hand, his other holding onto the handle bar on the bus.

“Did he up the security after that then?” Ryan asked, watching a woman struggle to get onto the bus with her twin-stroller.

“From what I’ve heard, only a bit. It sounds like he thought he succeeded in getting off the hook,” Shane said.

Ryan definitely felt nervous now. He knew he at least had a better idea of what to expect now, after Gary, but was also worried about the scale this case was, compared to the other one. This man was guarded, and even though his hired guns might have been given water guns, they might very well still be carrying real ones too.

Shane must’ve felt his uncertainty because he tapped Ryan on the shoulder.

“As I’ve said, like for the fifth time now, if you want out, at any moment-”

“I know,” Ryan assured him with a small nod. “I know, Shane. It’s fine. I’m allowed to be nervous, okay?”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Shane smiled down at him. It took Ryan a second before he realized what he meant.

“Tasty?” he asked, watching Shane’s smile widen.

Ryan shook his head with a laugh, still unable to grasp what his life had come to. Here he was, on a bus in Beverly Hills, headed for a job with a demon to collect a soul. At least he didn’t have to pay tax.

“Wait, do I pay tax?” Ryan raised an eyebrow and Shane snorted at the random question. The old lady sitting beside Ryan gave him the stink eye.

“It’s automatic, yeah,” Shane nodded, grinning at Ryan’s dumbfounded look.

“Hell’s certainly organized,” Ryan mumbled, receiving another stare from the lady.

They got off at their stop, Shane heading in a direction like he had walked this path many times before.

“Do you know where we’re headed?” Ryan asked, sidestepping a trash can that had fallen over on the sidewalk.

“I looked it up before, I also have it on my GPS,” Shane said, looking down at his phone.

Ryan hummed, looking at his friends back.

“I can also sort of… signal in on the soul I’m planning to collect. It’s not like a radar, but I can sort of tell in which direction it’s in.”

“Dude, that sounds like some X-Man bullshit,” Ryan admitted and Shane snorted.

“You remember how I found Olivia?” Shane asked instead after a moment of silent walking.

“Yeah,” Ryan shivered at the memory, at how worried he had been back then. “You smelled her fear or something, right?”

“Smelled and sensed, kinda. It’s similar this time too. Evan isn’t scared, exactly, but more… cocky, I’d say.”

“Well, we’ll see if that remains after we arrive,” Ryan added.

Evan’s house was truly grand. It wasn’t one of those modern houses with sharp squares and dark colors, but rather an older white brick house with a red roof. A palm tree grew outside the gate, a Fiber Internet sign shoved into the ground beneath it.

“Well, if anything he has a nice house,” Ryan whispered. They walked around the house, following the tall brick fence. It was taller than Shane by quite a bit and Ryan waited for Shane’s plan to conquer their first obstacle.

Shane came to a stop at one of the sides, the neighboring house on the other side dark through the windows, looking like the people at home were either asleep or not home. Ryan could see a surveillance camera at the house but it wasn’t pointed at them.

“So, you still in on this?” Shane asked, turning to Ryan. He pulled up his hood and Ryan nodded, having already done his up on the bus.

“Okay, don’t be scared, it’s just me,” Shane instructed before Ryan realized the dark smoke was starting to materialize around them. It was dark outside, almost midnight, and he couldn’t see his shoes on the ground anymore.

“What are you doing?” Ryan whispered, watching Shane look up towards the top of the fence.

“I’m letting some of _me_ seep from the vessel, I need to be more alert,” he explained.

Ryan stared at him in silence, then at the smoke. Then he simply shrugged.

“Sure, man. Whatever you say. Hail Satan and all that.”

“Shut up,” Shane laughed, voice still only a whisper. He gently hit Ryan in his chest before he grabbed the top of the fence and suddenly pulled himself up. From that distance Ryan wasn’t sure many humans could handle pulling themselves up with such ease. Instead it just looked like Shane was defying gravity as he crouched on the top of the brick fence. He bent down and waved for Ryan to jump for his hand.

“You might be strong enough to hold on, but I can’t lift myself up,” Ryan hissed, glancing around himself down both ways of the road, making sure no one was coming.

“Just trust me, little human,” Shane grinned and in the darkness he truly looked demonic.

“Your eyes are sort of shining,” Ryan thought, accidentally also aloud and Shane rolled said shining eyes.

“So what? Hurry up, idiot,” he demanded and Ryan finally bent his legs to jump. As he did he suddenly felt some sort of pressure around his ankles. It was explained when he jumped up for Shane’s hand and he was somehow lifted into the air not only by the other’s hands. In just a couple seconds Shane led them both down onto a neatly cut lawn, the mist easing Ryan’s fall as well.

Ryan stared at his friend in awe and Shane simply wiggled his eyebrows.

“It’s not just for ambiance,” Shane explained, vaguely gesturing to the smoke around him.

There was one guard in the backyard, sitting by a small table probably used for garden tea or something. The guard was quite buff and it looked a little silly as he sat in a tiny white chair.

True to the description of the contract he was holding what surely looked like a large black water gun.

“He’s got a real gun too,” Shane whispered. “I’ve got this one, stay here.”

Ryan sat crouched behind one of the bushes and Shane continued closer. With how tall the man was Ryan was impressed with how well he could hide, crawling forwards past plants and whatever sort of flowering bushes they were.

Because of the dark Ryan couldn't really see Shane any longer, nor the smoke that was surely traveling across the place. With his pulse loud in his ears Ryan waited for something to happen.

Movement by the guard had him on high alert. Ryan watched the guard suddenly stand up from his chair.

Shit. Had he seen him? Across the garden he was directly facing Ryan.

Then he turned towards the left, walking out towards the lawn. In complete astonishment Ryan watched the man sit down with his back to the tree, carefully holding the gun in his hands. Then he leaned his head back and went still again.

Ryan stared at him, trying to grasp why the guard had suddenly felt like nap time under one of the trees was a good idea. Surely he could be fired for it.

Shane suddenly appeared above one of the bushes, Ryan’s eyes widening. He waved for the human to come over and Ryan glanced once again at the guard before he followed where Shane had went earlier.

“What did you do?” Ryan whispered as soon as he reached him.

“He’s sleeping, don’t worry,” Shane assured him, heading towards the porch entrance.

The door was unlocked for some reason, probably so the guard would be able to pass in and out. Certainly didn’t work in Evan’s favor now that Shane and Ryan simply wandered inside.

The room they entered had a wide fireplace on one wall, a couch and chairs around it. It was well lit for being the middle of the night, Ryan mused.

“There’s two guards in the hallway,” Shane whispered, his voice almost silent. Ryan nodded, not trusting his own voice.

“I can’t partly possess both of them. I’m gonna try to lure one over,” Shane explained before he gestured towards the couch. Both of them crawled behind it, hidden from the view of the hallway. Shane gestured towards a frame on the wall, depicting some sort of hunter dog, and it fell to the floor on his command. The sound of the frame was clearly heard by both guards, Ryan could hear brief talk before footsteps were heard.

He unknowingly held his breath as he waited for the guard to do something, to find them, but suddenly Shane was dashing out from the couch with a “ _Eh, whatever”_.

A short, odd noise was heard, and Ryan realized a couple seconds later it was a gunshot from a handgun with a silencer on.

“No you don’t,” he heard Shane say when he lowered his hands only a second later, carefully peeking around the corner.

Standing in the middle of the room was Shane, facing a guard. Shane raised his hand and whipped it towards the side, Ryan watching the guards handgun fly from his hand into the wall somewhere.

Suddenly the house wasn’t as quiet anymore. Ryan could hear footsteps coming from upstairs, more than one pair, dashing to get to the intruder.

Shane reached forwards and grabbed the guard’s head only to slam it back into the bookcase, the man falling into a lump on the floor.

The second guard from the hallway must’ve aimed at Shane because he suddenly hid behind the wall of the living room, water splashing into the entrance of the living room.

“It’s- it’s a demon!” the guard yelled and Ryan heard something drop, something that sounded suspiciously like another real handgun. Shane’s eyes caught Ryan’s in the room and he wiggled his eyebrows once again.

Then he walked forwards, the lights in the room suddenly blinking and buzzing, like the electricity was failing.

Shane gestured once again with his hand, holding his palm open before he clenched it close. He threw his arm behind him, like he was throwing something invisible, and a second later three crumpled up pieces of _something_ landed back by the fireplace.

Ryan stared at the objects, realizing it was the handguns, now crushed into black balls of metal. Which meant Ryan’s life was out of danger.

God damn Shane, having prioritized Ryan over himself.

And because of that the next hit of the holy water gun hit Shane over both his arms where he covered his face. The impact made the water boil and stream rise from his arms. Shane clenched his teeth in pain and Ryan dashed up from the couch.

The three guards had entered the room and one had turned his back to Ryan who, without much planning at all, used a random bottle of some fancy alcohol placed on the bar cart to smash it over the guard’s head. The man stumbled forwards before he fell to the floor.

“Holy shit,” Ryan gasped before he was hit full blast with holy water in his face from the other two guards. It didn’t do much of anything but get him wet, and he wiped it off, blinking at the two men in front of him. They both looked horrified, staring at Ryan in shock. To them they probably thought he was some kind of super-demon who wasn’t affected by holy water.

Ryan’s improvised attack and their shock gave Shane enough time though. The lights started flickering again and then one of the guards straightened up. As smoke curled on the floor his eyes suddenly rolled back to expose only white. He waddled in place for a moment before he turned to the other guard to punch him right in the head.

The scuffle was short as Shane appeared behind him, having removed his hoodie which must’ve been soaked in holy water. The guard went down to the floor as Shane reached for his temple and just a second later did the guard with the white eyes.

Ryan tried calming his breathing as he stared at Shane, the two the only people left standing in the living room.

“Put down the fire poker, Ryan,” Shane gestured and Ryan looked down at his hands. He had grabbed it from the fireplace on instinct. As he placed it back Shane bent down to the guard Ryan had knocked out with the bottle. At least he hoped he was only knocked out.

“Is he…?” Ryan asked, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

“He’s only knocked out, but I think you gave him a proper concussion,” Shane said with a snort. Instead of sounding worried he sounded impressed.

“Fuck me,” Ryan breathed, emitting another laugh from Shane.

“If you ask nicely, maybe later,” Shane grinned and Ryan choked on the air.

“Okay, remind me to wipe the place of fingerprints and footprints before we leave,” Shane said, then he pointed to the three crumpled up guns.

“Can you grab those? I was gonna try to do this sneakily but it’s gonna have to look like a robbery instead,” he said, hands on his hips.

Ryan did as told, putting all three in his large pocket on the front of his hoodie. He was still rather wet from the holy water gun attack.

“Did you get shot?” Ryan asked, staring at his friend’s grey undershirt.

“Nope,” Shane said, gesturing to the ceiling where a single bullet hole now was.

“Any surveillance cameras?” Ryan continued, glancing around the room.

“One outside the front door, one in the hallway I think. That’s it,” Shane said, looking unimpressed. “I also expected more than five guards, but I guess he only had one or two the first time.”

“Well, maybe next time,” Ryan joked.

Shane made the same clenching motion in the hallway and Ryan watched as the camera crumpled up.

“Are you sure no one’s gonna question that?” Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Shane reached forwards again and tugged on the air, the camera coming loose. He grabbed it mid air before tossing it to Ryan who grabbed it, only juggling it for a second. Ryan pocketed the crushed camera too, but his pockets were full now. Picking up Shane’s discarded hoodie he tied it around his waist.

The double doors to Evan’s office were a dark wood, the knobs a shining gold color. Ryan grabbed one of the handles but found the door locked. He frowned, turning to Shane.

The demon grabbed the other handle himself, testing it once before clicking his tongue.

And then he simply broke the knob, the entire thing coming off the wooden door. Ryan could hear a screw or something fall on the other side, Shane then pushing the door open.

Inside was Evan Bianchi, sitting behind a grand desk. He didn’t look as intimidating as Ryan had expected, especially after all those guards.

There were bookshelves on the sides of his room adoring not only literature but also statues and vases, but not any photos of people as far as Ryan could see.

Shane walked inside but stopped in his tracks just before the carpet, glancing at the floor. Ryan followed him but stayed a step back, just in case. Evan didn’t exactly look stable with his shiny forehead and bags under his eyes. He still hadn’t said anything.

Ryan watched Shane raise his arm to tap an invisible wrist watch, Evan inhaling in fear.

“You’ve got five seconds before I alert the cops,” Evan finally spoke, sounding far more collected than he looked. Ryan glanced at Shane in alarm, not sure what they could do if cops actually stormed the place.

“No, you’re not. You could have, before. But you didn’t,” Shane said, “because you know you’ve got dirt here, on the company, that the cops would just love to dig up.”

Evan took a deep breath, his fists clenching on his desk.

“It’s time,” Shane explained, tossing the door handle into the air like a tennis ball he was playing with.

Evan, however, didn’t move, simply stayed still where he sat.

Shane sighed, crouching on the floor. Ryan watched in confusion as Shane set down the door handle and grabbed a piece of the carpet. Tossing it forwards made the corner fold over, revealing some sort of inscription on the floor. The text was latin, Ryan could tell that much, but the symbols and signs he had never seen before.

“Smart,” Shane said. “Honestly, I’m impressed. It makes up for the lack of guards I was warned about.”

Ryan tilted his head to read the Latin words on the floor, raising an eyebrow.

“Honestly Evan, where did you find this? Wikipedia? The dark web?” Shane asked, his tone obvious to Ryan though; Shane was mocking the man.

Evan narrowed his eyes, and Ryan saw a tiny bit of bravery fall over the man’s face. “Let’s just say I have my contacts, damn demons.”

Down at their feet the dark mist spread, flowing out around them, but only reaching the edge of the carpet, like Shane was carefully feeling his way forwards.

Shane slowly stood up from his crouch, Ryan watching his face. He caught himself this time, succeeding in not making a surprised noise as he realized Shane’s eyes had gone all white.

“What is it?” Ryan asked. The writing on the floor obviously had something to do with demons. Was it a portal or something? Something that could damage Shane?

“It’s a demon trap,” Shane explained. “I step over the line and I’m stuck.”

Ryan looked down at the pattern again, uttering a single, “Ah.”

“I guess I’m lucky I brought you,” Shane smiled, his eyes back to normal.

“What?” Ryan head Evan whisper in confusion, watching the man look between them both. Then it seemed to clear for him.

“You’re human,” he said, standing up from his desk.

Ryan didn’t reply but it was answer enough.

“You’re human,” Evan repeated, “Yet you’re helping him… Don’t you know what he is?!”

“A demon. Which I’d say that’s pretty obvious,” Ryan said, nodding towards the smoke on the floor.

Evan’s eyes went back and forth between the two.

“Are you working for him? I-I can work too, I can be useful,” he said, pointing at his own chest.

“Evan, it’s time to go,” Shane said, and Ryan could tell his patience was wearing thin.

“I’m only 56, sir! I’ve finally gotten my life in check. I have a wife,” Evan pleaded, desperation in his eyes. In the span of a minute he had gotten from calling Shane damn demon to sir. It was kind of funny.

Shane brought a hand up to his face, rubbing at his forehead with a deep sigh. Then he turned back to Ryan.

With a wink he stepped over the line, his smoke following and suddenly, like being sucked inside, it was constricted to the inside of the border. It pressed up against the edges of the circle like there was an invisible wall there. Like a wide glass cylinder was placed over the circle drawn on the floor, continuing behind Evan’s desk.

Now they were both inside.

Evan must’ve realized his options were starting to run out because he threw himself at his phone on the desk and Shane raised his hand to clutch it in the air, Ryan hearing the phone in Evan’s hand crumble up like it was paper, just like the guns, just like the camera.

Yelling in surprise Evan fell back against the chair again, Shane shaking his head at him, like he was a naughty child.

Instead of walking around the large desk Shane raised one of his long legs and stepped up on it, standing on papers and everything.

“Please, please don’t. God, save me! God!” Evan pleaded, his breathing quickening, his tie askew.

Ryan watched Shane kick his laptop off the desk, crouching right before the man. Evan was pushed back, frozen in his fancy office chair, the wall behind him blocking him from moving.

“ _In absentia lucis, tenebrae vincunt. Ad undas,_ Evan Bianchi,” Shane exclaimed, and even through Ryan couldn’t see his face he could hear the smile in his words.

The black smoke seemed to darken, the lights in the room suddenly flickered like before. Yet Ryan couldn’t take his eyes off Shane’s back. It suddenly grew cold in the room, Ryan felt like there were a million eyes on them, some large entity watching him. Then the smoke enveloped Evan who’s erratic breathing at last quieted.

The silence was deafening and Ryan could hear his own heartbeat in his chest, the light in the ceiling buzzing once more before the bulb suddenly exploded. The human jumped with the sound, holding up his hands so he wouldn’t get any glass on him.

Between his arms he could see Shane standing up again.

Shane tilted his head both ways, getting a crick out of his neck. Then he turned around and his eyes fell on Ryan. From where he stood up on the desk Ryan had to tilt his head back to meet his eyes, and in some corner of his mind it all felt kind of symbolical, in some strange way.

Shane was the first one to move, taking a step forward and jumping off the desk, hands in his pockets. Then he looked down at the writings on the floor in front of him, then back up at Ryan.

“Are you trapped inside?” Ryan asked, walking closer to the circle. He reached his hand over the edge but nothing happened. Shane let out a snort in front of him, leaning back against the desk.

“I was sorta hoping you were going to let me out afterwards,” Shane smiled.

Ryan rolled his eyes. “You gotta tell me how, big boy.”

“Break the line. You gotta scratch out the inscriptions, like breaking a salt line,” he instructed, vaguely pointing towards some part of the text. Ryan looked around the room, eyes falling on a fancy letter knife on Evan’s desk.

He knew the trap was for demons but Ryan still held his breath as he walked inside the ring, leaning over the desk to reach it. Without Shane blocking his view he could now see Evan, still fallen over in his chair. His eyes were bloodshot and wide open, staring at something in the ceiling. He was completely still.

Leaning back Ryan could feel Shane’s eyes on him, watching him, probably waiting for a reaction of some sort.

He met Shane’s eyes for a second before he walked back over the line, feeling nothing odd or weird as he did so. He raised an eyebrow at the black smoke still pressing up against the invisible edge. Ryan couldn’t stop his curiosity, reaching forwards to wave his hand through the smoke.

“How does it work? Is it like a glass wall?” he asked, watching the smoke move as he waved the air around. It still wouldn’t pass over the invisible line.

Shane stood up and reached towards Ryan with a closed fist, banging it against the air. Ryan couldn’t help twitching in surprise, trying to ignore Shane’s amusement. There was a short echoing noise after Shane had hit the invisible wall, like crystal clinging.

Ryan got to work on the floor, scratching at the letters reading ‘ _vinctus_ ’. The knife wasn’t sharp enough, being a letter knife and all, and Ryan groaned when the paint didn’t come off.

“What the fuck did he use? Permanent pen?” he grunted. Raising the knife Ryan instead stabbed it into the floor, hacking away at two of the letters. It seemed to do the trick as Shane suddenly got back up from the desk, finally stepping over the line.

“Jesus,” Ryan sighed, getting to his feet again. “Also, isn’t this gonna raise some eyes?” he asked, gesturing to the demon trap.

Shane shrugged before bending down to put the mat back to cover the writings.

“Yeah, I think there might be a chance someone moves the carpet after they’ve removed the dead body, Shane,” Ryan said, voice full of sarcasm.

“So what? You wanna go get a paint stripper and get to work on this floor?” Shane asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ryan shuddered dramatically, Shane once again laughing at the human.

“Can’t you magically remove it? Like you destroyed the guns and stuff?” Ryan asked, following him outside into the hallway.

“It’s demon warding, Ryan. Not exactly,” Shane replied, picking up the one intact gun from the guard by the bookshelf.

He hissed loudly as his hand started sizzling, probably having some remains of holy water from the fight on it. Shane shook his hand in the air, tsking.

“Go out into the yard, I’ll meet you there,” he gestured. Ryan once again found himself staring at the mist curling on the floor. Was it removing his fingerprints?

“Uh, yea- wait why? What are you gonna do?” he asked, watching Shane turn back towards the hallway.

“I’m gonna shoot his dead body. Unless you want to?” Shane spun the handgun on a finger once before he turned back. Ryan watched him leave, shaking his head before he sneaked back into the backyard.

He thought he vaguely heard two other shots of a gun with a muffler, wondering why the guards would even have those. If it had been regular bullets the neighborhood might’ve been alerted, but this way it was easy to just sneak in and get the job done.

Ryan supposed everything had gone surprisingly well.

A shadow beside him had Ryan falling back against one of the bushes in shock, Shane quickly catching him by the arm.

“Ow, shit,” Shane hissed, releasing Ryan’s arm as soon as he had both feet under him again. He shook his hand in the air, probably having touched the spot where Ryan got splashed by holy water.

“What do I do with your hoodie?” Ryan asked, untying it from his waist, trying to pretend like he didn’t just get scared of Shane for the hundredth time that day.

“It would be very nice if you could wash it? I mean I would, but, you know,” Shane smiled sheepishly and Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Of course, man. And the artsy gun collection I now have in my pocket?”

“I’ll discard them,” Shane said, holding out a plastic bag he must’ve fetched from inside. Then he nodded towards the fence and in just a minute or so they were back outside.

The human was nervous the entire way back home but no one batted much of an eye at them. Still, Ryan couldn’t help but to feel like they’d gotten away with murder.

Shane grabbed his knee on the bus ride back, Ryan still trying to analyze everything that happened. What if Shane hadn’t wiped his fingerprints well enough? What if police showed up at his door trying to arrest him tomorrow. What if he made a mistake while wiping the guard’s memories? The demon had assured him he’d done a thorough job, but… what if he forgot something?

“What?” Ryan hissed, eyes still wide and awake.

Shane patted him sympathetically on the leg. “Wanna go out for a drink?”

“Fuck yes,” Ryan exhaled. “But I should get back home. What if Olivia or Jackson wake up and I’m not home.”

“Ryan, I’m sure they’re fine. But if it’ll ease your heart, what about we get some alcohol from a store then? Drink at your place?”

“Sounds good,” Ryan smiled.

Whatever whiskey Shane had picked out did it’s job well, Ryan relaxing back into his couch after his second glass. He vaguely remembered Shane channel surfing while they talked for a while.

His phone read 3AM when Ryan’s first yawn appeared.

“And to bed with you, young man,” Shane instructed and Ryan swatted at his arm. He glanced at his friend, eyes starting to drop. With an alcohol induced mind he made the decision to lie down on the couch beside Shane, pulling the blanket over both of them.

It was a tight squeeze to say the least.

Drunk Ryan didn’t care too much about the consequences of those actions though.

“Really Ryan?” Shane asked and Ryan ignored him, getting comfortable with his couch pillow. Shane sighed behind him, continuing to browse on his phone. It didn’t take long, however, before a warm arm slid around Ryan’s front and he finally fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Ryan woke up to a gross, disgusting feeling in his mouth, his throat dry and tongue heavy. But above all, he was incredibly thirsty. Licking his lips he blinked himself awake, waiting for the inevitable headache to hit him. He knew he had drank a lot, especially enough if he forget to brush his teeth, not even mentioning not making it to his bed.

Warm sunlight was reaching in through the window of his living room, reflecting on the TV screen in front of him. The orange tone from the light together with the majority of his room still cast in shadow told him it was early, probably only sunrise. The sun also revealed the multiple handprints and smudges from small hands pointing and tapping on the tv. Most likely Olivia.

Another inevitable factor was the warm body not only behind him but also underneath him, Ryan wondering how Shane hadn’t removed his arm yet. It must’ve fallen asleep being crushed under him.

“You awake?” Ryan whispered, having to clear his voice afterwards. He didn’t want to move yet because his hangover would then become reality.

“Mhm,” Shane said behind him, voice coming from above Ryan’s head.

“Do you know what time it is?” Ryan asked, reaching up to rub some sleep out of his eyes.

Even though the blanket was covering them both Ryan felt a bit cold, the room slightly chilly. He could feel Shane moving behind him, probably attempting to dig his phone out of his pocket.

“5am,” he replied, pocketing his phone.

“I need water,” Ryan groaned nonetheless. He didn’t really want to move, but water would help. Hundreds of hangovers had taught him that postponing to drink just made it worse.

“Stay. I’ve got it,” Shane hummed.

Ryan frowned, trying to peek over his shoulder at the other. He waited for Shane to get up by clambering over him, but the other didn’t move. Instead Ryan felt the temperature around him drop even further, like someone had opened a window. Somehow his vision seemed to blacken around the edges, Ryan narrowing his eyes. In the corner of his eye he thought he saw the tv suddenly flicker on and off for a second, Ryan freezing in his spot. With a small bolt he suddenly felt static from where he was touching Shane behind him, about to sit up and ask him what was going on.

Then everything was back to normal, in just a second, like it never happened. The room was bright again with the rising sun peeking through the window, Shane warm against his back.

“Got it,” Shane said, and suddenly a water bottle was held in front of Ryan’s face. He gently took it, staring at the bottle.

“Did you just… conjure a plastic bottle of water?” Ryan slowly asked, staring suspiciously at it. It didn’t feel cold in his hands, nor was it unopened, only half full.

Shane chuckled behind him. “No, it was on the counter. I just wingardium-leviosa’d it over here.”

Ryan didn’t have the energy to be surprised. He had seen Shane steal guns from across the room and crumble them into pieces.

“So it’s drinkable? Cause I felt some serious poltergeist shit just a second ago,” he said, taking off the cap.

“Yes, Ryan,” Shane sighed.

After downing the whole thing, Ryan placed it on the TV table, feeling sleep hit him again. It just tasted like any room temperature water but somehow it felt like heaven.

Sometimes having a demon friend seemed to pay off, apparently.

***-***-***

Ryan woke up two hours later to his alarm blaring through the room, his phone still in his pants. He woke up with a twitch and would’ve definitely fallen off if it wasn’t for Shane’s arm around his waist. Digging for his phone he finally found it and turned it off. He stared at his screen, his phone’s battery almost out.

“Shit, it’s Monday,” he groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“Did you forget or something?” Shane hummed behind him, not sounding near as disheveled as Ryan. He briefly wondered if Shane had even slept much at all.

“Mmmaybe,” Ryan moaned, hoping he could get away with just a couple more minutes of sleep.

“Jackson is awake,” Shane whispered in his ear and Ryan sighed. He had to get up and make sure his kids had breakfast before school.

The sound of feet on the floor had Ryan remove his arm to watch Jackson stare at the two, his son standing in the doorway, his hair still flat from the pillow. He was wearing his green morning robe which was starting to look ridiculously short on him. He was growing too fast, in Ryan’s opinion.

“Are you drunk?” Jackson asked, looking mildly unimpressed.

“You’re not supposed to know what that is,” Ryan complained, slowly getting into a sitting position. He could hear Shane’s soft laughter behind him.

“Whatever, dad,” Jackson said, disappearing into the kitchen.

Ryan cursed his spinning head, staring at the table in front of him to try to calm down. Closing his eyes only made it worse.

“I think you need some good breakfast too, hun,” Shane said, humor evident in his voice. He slapped Ryan on his back before getting up from the couch, following behind Jackson.

Ryan sat there for another minute, head in his hands, blaming the whiskey. As usual, he made a false promise of never drinking again. A toilet break was his first priority though, grabbing one of his large hoodies on the way.

When he entered the kitchen Shane gestured for him to sit down in one of the chairs. The coffee pot was on, Jackson was eating cereal in front of him and Shane placed another bottle of water in front of Ryan, together with a pain killer.

“I’ll get Olivia,” Shane declared before leaving.

Ryan quickly downed the pill and most of the water, cold this time. The plastic crinkled in his hand as he set it down on the table.

Jackson had his phone in his hand but was looking at his father.

“Did something happen?” he asked, going back to scrolling on his phone. Ryan stared at the coffee maker, waiting for it to beep and tell him it was ready.

“No, your father just had a little too much to drink,” Ryan admitted, watching Jackson snort in front of him. His kids rarely, if never, saw him drunk or hungover. He wondered if he was supposed to apologize, or maybe explain the dangers of alcohol.

“Do you like Shane?” Jackson asked instead and Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“He’s a good friend,” Ryan replied but he was aware it sort of sounded like a question.

“Do you?” he countered instead, aware that the probability of Shane hearing them both was quite high.

“He’s weird, but cool,” Jackson said, similar to what he’d said last time on the beach. “He’s nice.”

“Nice and weird, sounds like Shane,” Ryan snorted, taking out his own phone. He turned off the remainder of his wake up alarms before checking the weather app.

A minute later Shane walked into the kitchen, carrying a half-asleep Olivia in his arms. Ryan tsked at her, trying to fix her hair after Shane sat her down beside Ryan.

“You shouldn’t let her boss you around, she can walk on her own,” Ryan argued, watching Shane pour the coffee into two cups.

“At her current state I’m not sure she can,” Shane said, handing Ryan his coffee. “Toast or cereal?” he asked the room.

“Toast, please,” Ryan and Olivia replied at the same time. Jackson rolled his eyes at them.

***-***-***

In the end Shane insisted on driving instead of Ryan. Olivia has certainly seen better hair days but she wasn’t in the mood for a quick hairdo nor a brushing session, and neither did Ryan have the energy to fight her on it. If it fueled her teachers gossip about her single dad doing a bad job, then so be it. At least he didn’t force his daughter to play the goddamn pinocchio flute or whatever it was called. Judith clearly had no interest in it, but her parents were stern.

Ryan watched Olivia and her friend meet up just outside the school building.

“Jackson has woken up early the last couple days,” he wondered aloud from the passenger seat of the car after both Olivia and Jackson had gotten out.

“I mean, I guess it might be stress,” he continued, sighing.

Shane started up the car to drive them back to Ryan’s apartment. “Stress over school, maybe?”

“He’s not behind in any subject though, as far as I know. I haven’t heard anything from school, anyway,” Ryan hummed.

The weather was still nice outside, the winds warm but the temperature quite low. His hangover still lingering had Ryan feeling quite cold, however. He was seriously anticipating a warm shower when he got back home.

Ryan still hadn’t done any job searching, he was pretty much postponing it by now. Because with this new work he sort of had money covered. He was also surprised Shane hadn’t brought it up to him yet.

“When you did that little… water bottle trick,” Ryan started as they waited by yet another red light stop, “it wasn’t like last time. I felt really cold all of a sudden, and you gave me a shock, like some serious static electricity shit, man.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Shane grimached.

“Why though?” Ryan continued.

“Cause we were touching,” Shane explained.

The light turned green.

“So it happens to you every time you do stuff like that? Just that I was in proximity this time?” he asked.

“Mmm,” Shane hummed, turning the wheel, “Probably, but I don’t really pay attention. When I have to draw on my demonic core, for lack of a better word, it sorta fucks up the atmosphere here, I guess. I think the static is a result of that. It’s why lights and shit sometimes flicker, like some B horror movie.”

Ryan shook his head in incredulity, releasing a short laugh.

***-***-***

“The second case,” Ryan started, his knees drawn up to his chest, “it involves a demon, right?”

He was sitting in his joggers on his living room couch, feet hidden under the blanket lying over his legs. Shane was sitting on the other end of the couch watching the TV, his chin resting in his palm. He turned to Ryan at his words, away from the old western rerun they were watching.

“Yeah,” Shane confirmed.

Ryan bit his lip.

“What? Are you thinking about it?” Shane asked.

“I guess I am,” Ryan admitted. He had given it some thought and from what he gathered Shane might be in trouble going in alone. Sure, Ryan was unsure about the morality of the actual contract, but exorcising a demon didn’t feel like such a horrible idea.

“Can you tell me about it?”

“It’s like I told you. The mother, Leah, made a deal to save her daughter’s life. Now time has come and she’s gotta hold up her end of the deal. But,” Shane said, drawing out the word, “she’s now besties with a demon, apparently. I don’t know which demon it is nor why it’s indifferent to prior contracts. Either she’s got something over it, or it’s an unrestricted demon.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “But some of you have tried the case already?”

Shane met his eyes. “No. Her time isn’t up yet.”

Ryan frowned. The contract’s time wasn’t up yet? “What?”

“It’s in five days,” Shane explained calmly.

Ryan closed his mouth, staring at his friend. _‘Five days’_. Which meant her contract was still going.

“But… how? Why?” Ryan tried, absently scratching his arm.

“It’s my contract,” Shane affirmed and Ryan felt himself still.

“It’s a deal she made with me, Ryan.”

The room was silent. Ryan hadn’t even realized it but Shane must’ve muted the tv, without touching the remote too. It no longer surprised Ryan that he had that ability; he was pretty sure he had seen Shane turn on the tv without it too.

But this? He knew Shane obviously wasn’t a saint, but he never really thought about Shane running around making deals on his own too.

“Did you forget I’m a demon too, Ryan? I-”, Shane started, and his tone sounded almost condescending, like he was explaining to a child.

“No, I know, Shane,” the human interrupted him in annoyance, glaring at the other. Shane simply raised an eyebrow.

“So… why did you do it?” Ryan tried instead.

“What do you mean why? You just insisted you are aware I’m a _demön_ ,” Shane mocked and Ryan groaned at him.

“Yes, but I mean… like why-why that case? Did you just stumble into that hospital or was she, like, praying to demons? Did she summon you?” Ryan asked, trying to figure out how it all went down.

“She did actually summon me,” Shane said, sounding impressed, “Which, to be honest, should’ve indicated she probably had prior knowledge about demons before that point. It was before I worked on Unsolved, but I was just starting at Buzzfeed. I had played human for a long time at that point so I felt… giving, that day, I suppose. So I gave her fifteen years to enjoy with her daughter.”

Shane glanced at Ryan. “That’s a lot, for a demon deal,” he explained.

Ryan nodded slowly, imagining a younger Shane with the horns out, shaking hands with a grieving mother in a children’s hospital.

“But it’s the mother that’s going to hell, right? Or the daughter?” Ryan asked, just to clarify.

“The mother sold her soul for her daughter to live,” Shane nodded, “I’m collecting the mother’s soul.”

“How,” Ryan started, frowning in thought, “How can you have so much power? To like, save someone of a life threatening illness? Why wouldn’t demons just go around doing good instead? Because of hunger for souls?”

Shane indicated Ryan was sort of right by shaking his head to the side. “Sorta. We can’t make up energy on our own, we don’t have a power source, like you do,” Shane explained, pointing towards Ryan’s chest.

“So you have to…” Ryan trailed off.

“Feed off of others,” Shane finished for him, nodding. He was smiling but his eyes seemed sad.

“Also,” Shane cleared his throat “it’s sort of lame, but hell is kind of a collective or a commune, in a way. We work together and there is order, mostly, and with all of us doing our job and once in a while, for example, doing contracts for others, we help each other,” Shane explained. “If hell is strong, so are its demons.”

Ryan stared at him, close to cracking a smile. “Honestly, Shane, it sorta feels like you’re just trying to fool me into the belief that hell is a lot more like earth than I thought. You apparently have order, you’re stronger together, and you, in a way, eat other creatures, just like humans do.”

Shane laughed, grinning at him. “And what if it is like that? Would that really be so weird?”

Ryan tilted his head. “Well, yes. Demons are still evil, right? I mean- no offense, but like, you’re not supposed to be, well, good for us, right?”

Shane chuckled a little, but shrugged. “I suppose. If anything we’re more like parasites I guess. But in moderation? Not like the plague or anything. We don’t want to exterminate you, that would just kill us too. And we also have to keep hidden, because as unfortunate as it sounds, if people were aware they have souls they wouldn’t be up for making deals.”

Ryan looked back at the silent movie, watching a cowboy ride through a desert of some sort in slow-motion.

“I don’t think I ever asked this,” he bit his lip, hugging his knees tighter, “but what really happens when you take the soul? Can we survive without it?”

Shane gave him a sorrowful look and Ryan could guess the answer.

“You can survive, but it never goes well, “Shane admitted. “There hasn’t exactly been many studies into it, but your soul is basically what makes you _you_ , even if that sounds very boy-band. It’s your personality, your memories, your emotions; love and hatred and everything in between. Your conscience and ability to know when you’re doing something wrong, or anything at all.”

Ryan kept silent, waiting for him to continue.

“There are a few things that can happen, if you don’t die that is. Most people die,” Shane said, tapping his knee.

“So, firstly you can grow apathetic and lose awareness about what’s around you,” Shane explained, counting on his fingers.

“Basically like becoming brain dead. Those usually die from starvation. Others continue on without much awareness, sometimes they go mute, sometimes deaf, sometimes blind. They usually take their own life. Or,” he paused, sighing in pity, “they take their frustration out on other humans, to try to feel something, anything.”

“Gary?” Ryan asked, recalling the memory of the old man pointing a rifle at him.

“The contract is tied to the soul. When your soul leaves, it’s just a body. Gary’s body was 103 years old with more worries than just the chronic bronchitis,” Shane shrugged.

“Ah,” Ryan understood. “But, those people that survive and act out… they’re like murderers, then?”

“You mostly make those yourself, even with souls,” Shane said, smiling a little, “but yeah, throughout history, some are cases of soulless humans. A telltale is that they don’t grow that old, usually die in ten or twenty years after losing their soul.”

“So, for example, Jeffry Dahmer?” Ryan asked, his curiosity peaking.

“No,” Shane shook his head, “Or well, I don’t know,” he corrected himself. “But within recent years we almost always kill the human to prevent any of that from happening.”

“Gacy?” Ryan tried instead and Shane rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know, Ryan. When I said recent years I meant middle ages.”

Ryan gaped at him.

“Recent years? Aren’t middle ages like 1300th century?” Ryan asked, sitting up straighter in his seat.

“More like 1450-ish,” Shane said with a coy smile.

“Fuck you’re old,” Ryan breathed and Shane simply winked at him.

“Og þinn tími er… miniscule,” Shane smiled.

“Og dinn your mom,” Ryan grunted in reply.

In the corner of the room a fly was intently attacking the light bulb of the old, quite outdated desk lamp Ryan had picked up second hand. The bulb was a bit too bright for that type of lamp, the lamp-shade made out of thin glass with worn edges.

The flickering done that morning together with the incorrect outlet source was enough and the lightbulb finally exploded.

Ryan almost flew off the couch, instinctively covering his head with his arms. He turned to peer over the edge of the couch to watch the last of the glass fall off the desk to the floor.

With a glare Ryan turned to Shane who quickly held both hands up in surrender.

“Wasn’t me, dude.”

“Oh yeah, sure,” Ryan huffed. Getting to his feet he carefully watched where he stepped.

“Honestly,” Shane admitted. “Probably an incorrect light bulb to that old thing.”

Ryan ignored him, because he was probably right, and went to fetch something to clean the glass up with. God forbid one of his children got a piece in their foot.

“You don’t need to come along, by the way,” Shane said as Ryan returned. “It’s my contract. For all I know the demon won’t be an issue.”

The human stared at him, broom in one hand, dustpan in the other.

“Uh, I think I’d like to,” Ryan said, bending down to get the big pieces first. “What if the demon is like Ukobach? And if this Leah knows about demons she might be a danger, right?”

He heard Shane chuckle behind him.

“Oh, are you worried? About the big bad demon?” Shane asked.

“Get that stupid grin off your face,” Ryan said after turning to him. “ Guess I gotta go get some holy water if we do this though.”

Great thing about having a demon at home? Testing to see if the holy water worked.

After finishing up his cleaning, going over the floor with a vacuum too, just to be safe, Ryan fetched a random water bottle. He drew a cross on the lid, just to make sure he didn’t confuse it with regular water afterwards. If it even worked, that was.

Shane had insisted Ryan could just leave his rosary beads in a bottle and bless the water himself. The human felt a bit suspicious about it, but Shane argued once again that it was all about intent.

He couldn’t help but feel some annoyance at that, if this truly worked, considering Ryan had spent time and effort into getting his water blessed by priests before.

Either way, Ryan focused on the blessing, getting into the right headspace by thinking about his love for his children. He prayed, sat on his knees with the bottle in front of him.

“How many prayers do I need to do?” Ryan asked after the second one.

“I don’t know. One at least? Are you done?” Shane asked, lounging on the couch behind him.

“I, uh, think so?” Ryan wondered, picking up the bottle and getting to his feet.

“Only one way to test it out,” he grinned, walking over to Shane who raised an eyebrow.

“If you splash my face I’ll seriously cry, Ryan Bergara,” Shane said and Ryan couldn’t help laughing.

“Nah, give me your pinky instead then,” Ryan instructed, removing the rosary. He placed it over the folded blanket to dry and Shane looked suspiciously at it. Then he held out his hand towards Ryan who dipped his finger in the water, flicking some of it onto Shane’s outstretched hand.

Just like last time the water instantly started evaporating, hissing and steaming from where it burned the demon. Shane hugged his hand to himself, looking a bit sour.

“Guess it works,” Ryan smiled.

It didn’t last long, however, because Ryan remembered his worries from that night. It had kept him up, and was ultimately the one thing that might make him take a step back from all of this. He had to ask.

“My kids,” Ryan slowly spoke, “Will my kids be safe?”

Speaking his worries aloud had his stomach turning, but he needed to be absolutely sure about this. He felt horrible, like an awful father, for not having given it much thought until now. He had been busy with the excitement of experiencing and learning about the other side. Even if Shane never mentioned Jackson and Olivia being in possible danger, it wasn’t his responsibility. It was Ryan’s, and he felt like he’d been utterly selfish lately.

“Shane, what if it’s a demon who… what if it has friends, who will want revenge?”

“Oh, we don’t really do revenge,” Shane waved in dismissal, “If you fuck up, it’s your own fault. Also, we don’t have friends, not in the same way humans do, at least,” he shrugged.

Ryan stared at the bottle of recently turned holy water in his hands.

“Also, I’m here,” Shane assured him.

“I know,” Ryan frowned, “But what about when you aren’t? All I know is how to make salt lines and throw holy water. I imagine I wouldn’t even have time to chant an entire exorcism prayer to make a demon go away, at least if they’re not trapped.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Shane hummed. “There is one thing, I suppose. But it’s…” Shane trailed off.

“Tell me,” Ryan insisted, turning fully to Shane, setting the water bottle on the table.

Shane met his eyes.

“Hellhounds.”

***-***-***

Olivia dug around in her backpack, the ones with puppies on it, without finding her pen case. She had a couple spare pens in her locker but she sighed in frustration. Her dad had gotten her new, pretty sparkly pens and Olivia wanted to show them off today too, but her old ones had to do now. Her dad had been pretty tired that morning, so maybe he was sick.

“Hey ‘Livia,” her friend called beside her, smiling. Olivia looked at Chen and then her braces, wondering why she has chosen to get them in green color. It just looked like she had food stuck in her mouth all the time. ‘ _Salad-mouth_ ’ Olivia had hear another girl giggle behind Chen’s back.

“Hey Chen,” Olivia smiled, closing her locker, having to stand on her tiptoes. There was a stool for them to reach better if they needed it, but Olivia usually ignored it. She had only had stuff fall on her face a couple times.

Back in the classroom she sat down next to Judith again, getting ready for class. Their first year teacher was very boring and Olivia soon found herself scribbling in her notebook instead of listening to whatever photosynthesis was.

***-***-***

Jackson tried to discreetly watch as Benny continued playing the mobile game under his desk, their teacher at the front unaware. Jackson glanced over to the board whenever the teacher turned around, currently going over their math chapter. Benny didn’t have very good grades but he was good at video games.

“Today’s lunch is fish soup again,” Noah whispered beside him and Jackson made a grimach at his friend.

“I heard my cousin gets tacos at his school,” Noah continued, sketching a moustache on the woman in his textbook.

“No way,” Jackson replied, almost feeling his stomach grumble at the thought of tacos instead of fish soup. Maybe he could ask his dad. Or perhaps bribe him with the possibility of telling grandma about him being drunk that morning.

***-***-***

“Hellhounds…?” Ryan asked, looking unimpressed.

“Yep,” Shane nodded.

“Wait, are you serious? That doesn’t sound like a solution at all,” Ryan frowned.

“I told you, I don’t think Jackson and Olivia are in danger in relation to a demon or it’s acquaintances turning to revenge. However, hellhounds are bought for protection from demons nonetheless. They work,” Shane shrugged.

“But it’s not that easy though. First off, they’re pretty expensive, and I’d have to get two. Secondly, hellhounds are invisible to humans to humans with the exception of their owners,” Shane explained, pressing his lips together as he waited for Ryan’s reaction.

“So? What’s the trouble if I see them? Are they ugly?” Ryan asked, not sure why he was acting like it was such a bad thing.

“They’re visible to the person they’re protecting,” Shane clarified and Ryan sank into the couch.

He sat in silence for a while, unsure what to do with that.

“Fuck.”

***-***-***

Ryan spent the day mulling over what Shane had said. About what to do.

While washing that week’s worth of clothes Ryan thought about the possible results it could have. Shane had described the hellhounds as large wolf-like creatures, made up of the smoke-like substance Shane seemed to exist out of. Supposedly it was the way creatures from hell manifested themselves on earth. Something about molecules and atoms that didn’t exist on earth. Apparently neither chlorine nor sodium existed in hell, which might explain the vulnerability demons had to salt.

Something important to take into consideration was the creature’s behaviour but mainly appearance; Ryan didn’t want to scare his children for life. The description Shane had given him sounded close to horrifying, and the image Ryan’s mind was trying to puzzle together was grotesque. Apparently the creature’s face was made up of a wolf’s skull, not fur-smoke like the rest. Ryan wasn’t exactly sure what to picture and googling hellhounds didn’t give him much to go on. The drawings online mostly depicted red eyed pitbulls, which didn’t fit Shane’s description.

Nonetheless, they would serve a good purpose and guard Olivia and Jackson until the end of their lives, visible only to them. They were supposedly strong; any demon trying to harm what they were guarding would ‘most likely be defeated’, though not unbeatable. If Ryan was going to work other contracts, which undoubtedly was what he wanted to do, he’d like to be better safe than sorry. If not possible future demons being a threat, what about someone close to Ukobach. Or Ukobach himself, for that matter. As far as Ryan knew he had only banished the demon to hell, not killed it. Shane had indicated Ukobach would be stuck there for ‘a good while’.

Ryan couldn’t deny that he liked the idea of invisible wolves protecting his children, even though it sounded a bit ridiculous.

What about his children’s sanity? Turning their view of the world upside down. _‘Heaven and Hell are real’_. It would also be based entirely on the fact that both Jackson and Olivia had to keep it a secret.

He realized that agreeing to this was making him put even more trust in Shane. He was going on just his word here. Shane was the demon after all.

Then again this demon hadn’t killed him for his soul yet. Ryan also recalled having Shane promise not to hurt his kids when he first picked him up a couple months ago.

He watched his clothes spin in the washer in front of him, headphones on. God, that had been such a long time ago. And now, here he was, assisting a demon with contracts from hell, thinking about purchasing hellhounds.

The washing machine sped up in front of him.

***-***-***

 _‘I can’t just tell them you’re a demon’_ Ryan texted Shane.

He didn’t get a reply instantly and he went back to sorting through the clothes. By now Ryan’s apartment was pretty spot clean with how much free time he had. He was aware that getting a job would be a necessity soon, even if he wouldn’t do it for the money like one normally would. Not something too time consuming, but something to spend his days doing.

He had briefly thought about picking up Youtube or some other platform again. But he couldn’t lie to himself and say he wasn’t scared to. He was older, sort of out of the loop. Most likely not even close to being relevant again.

Ryan had always been competitive. It wasn’t a characteristic he was proud of but he was still afraid of people he used to know discovering his new hypothetical channel where he didn’t get any views. It was a dumb nightmare cenario, but it kept Ryan from starting a new channel nonetheless.

His phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket, Ryan digging it out.

_‘You can, but it’s your choice. I don’t mind either way.’_

Ryan groaned at the vague reply. He wasn’t sure what to do, he needed to get an outside view on the matter. The problem with that remained the obvious; he couldn't tell anyone else about it. Hell, the entire issue _was_ about telling people about something in the first place. _People_ , being his kids.

 _‘But if you were me, what would you do?’_ Ryan tried instead, putting down his phone to pair up all the socks.

Even two hours later Ryan still hadn’t gotten a reply. He spent the remainder of the day watching TV and playing video games before it was time to pick up his kids.

Jackson was weirdly adamant on tacos that evening and Ryan caved, even though they had food in the fridge. The idea of ordering tacos sounded good to him too.

After dinner he helped Olivia with her homework, thankful both his kids schoolwork was still ridiculously easy for him. Now, photosynthesis he knew about.

Jackson didn’t have much to argue about when Ryan insisted helping him with his homework; in other words making sure he was doing it in the first place. His father couldn’t find many issues with his homework however, so Jackson’s new weird morning routine probably wasn't about school. Ryan found himself worrying his son was instead ill.

“You’ve been waking up really early this last week,” Ryan eventually asked, watching Jackson close his textbook after finishing the last math problem.

His son glanced at him, then shrugged.

Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“You usually stay up way too late playing video games, and as a result of that you’re really tired in the mornings. Now you’re suddenly awake at the same time as me, or even before.”

“It’s nothing,” Jackson shrugged again.

“Jack,” Ryan pleaded, voice going soft, “I just worry about you.”

That seemed to catch his son’s attention. He was starting up his online game, holding his headphones in his hands.

“It’s nothing, dad,” Jackson tried, but he still didn’t put on his headphones.

“Is my alarm waking you up?” Ryan tried, “Are you stressed about school or your friends or something?”

“I’m talking to someone,” Jackson admitted, gesturing vaguely to his phone.

“Someone?” Ryan asked, frowning.

“She wakes up an hour before me, time zones you know. She rides the school bus and it’s a long trip, so she likes to talk to someone. So we text,” Jackson shrugged.

Ryan realized his mouth had fallen open and quickly shut it, trying to play it off as he cleared his throat.

“And how did you meet her? Online?” he asked, trying to sound inconspicuous.

“On the game,” Jackson said, and Ryan could tell his face was starting to turn red.

Oh dear.

“And you know that she’s, you know, who she says she is?” Ryan asked, unable to hide his skepticism.

“We voice chat when we play,” Jackson quickly insisted, “She’s two years older, she lives in Montana.”

Ryan slowly nodded, trying to play it cool. On one hand he was worried about internet predators, on the other he was getting excited about the possibility of his little boy getting a girlfriend.

“Okay,” Ryan said, awkwardly clapping his hands together, “just remember to be careful.”

“Dad,” Jackson wined and Ryan smiled, reaching over to ruffle his son’s hair before leaving.

He was starting to wonder if he should administer his children’s internet history.

***-***-***

Shane was still MIA but Ryan wasn’t about to call him just yet. Perhaps he was in hell, perhaps there was no reception there.

Ryan imagined calling and pure static and distorted voices coming out from his phone. Perhaps the screen would crack and 666 would be written across it.

He had sort of figured out a half-assed plan. First step; telling his kids that his weird friend Shane was a demon. Then he would simply follow that up by announcing their early christmas presents that each consisted of a monster from hell.

Ryan covered his face with both hands, groaning into his palms. It all felt too unreal, when he finally sat down and thought about it. He had been too into it, getting back into this entire other world, and human daily life now seemed so insignificant, frivolous even.

He had contemplated going back, shutting it all down and make an attempt to forget everything Shane told him about contracts. Go back to job hunting, pretend like he didn’t have an unhealthy interest in the demonic.

But Ryan wasn’t sure he could do that anymore.

Four days left. He knew he had four days to go before the contract was due.

Pacing around his living room didn’t help his wild thoughts. He finally decided to phone Shane but the call didn’t make it through. Ryan cursed, staring at his phone’s screen. He then caught sight of his laptop on the kitchen counter and Ryan did what he could do.

He researched.

***-***-***

After reheating a couple nuggets Ryan sat down in his kitchen. He didn’t feel like spending the time to cook rice so the leftover pasta dish in the corner of the refrigerator had to do. It didn’t smell too bad, but Ryan picked out the pieces of cucumber than had turned to mush.

Opening his browser he started searching for hellhounds. Now, he knew Wikipedia sources weren’t always reliable, not in the context of reliable sources to accommodate a university essay anyway, but more in which they were close to the truth or not. Shane wasn’t there to say which books had it all backwards and which were reliable so Ryan just noted most of it down, eliminating what he knew was false.

He sort of knew how they appeared and he found some old drawings which might be truthful. There were creatures known as hellhounds in many different mythologies however. Ryan got sidetracked reading about the Chinese lion dog for a minute, even though he knew it wasn’t relevant.

A book named Mythology, Religion and Tales of Hellhounds by B. McClintock seemed like a safe bet as it was constantly referenced online. Ryan’s luck was bound to run out sooner or later though as there was no e-book version nor an illegal pdf on some torrent website. However, one of his libraries close by actually had it and Ryan eventually figured looking the thing up couldn’t hurt.

He felt pretty ridiculous as he entered the building, the library part of one of California’s universities. He couldn’t quite figure out the shelving system and headed for one of the many computers. The library was large and made up of several floors, but it didn’t feel cramped with the large windows. On the other hand the shelves were pretty tall and Ryan desperately wished he wouldn’t have to use a latter or god forbid, ask someone for help.

The M section of Theology was larger than Ryan felt was necessary but he soon found the right last name. There were apparently a few McClintock, certainly more than Ryan expected. When he saw the book he almost let out a happy sound.

The book was certainly old and pretty worn out, the front cover just like the one he’d seen online. Ryan wasn’t about to set up a library card just to loan this one book so he found a secluded chair and opened the book on the spot instead.

The reading was quite heavy, and the font was small but the different versions of hellhounds were all interesting. Ryan wondered which was the most accurate. There were personal stories and tales in the last chapter and one paragraph caught his attention. It was translated from Hungarian, written by a young maid ca 1700th century.

> _(...) Our house was finally getting sold and we had to move. Mother was yet not the same since she stopped going to church last Sunday. She told me about the sátán kutyája that would protect me. I did not believe her until I saw it with my own eyes. It’s face was without skin and the monster’s body dark as soot. My mother could not see it but said it would protect me. It slept by my bed yesterday. It told me it’s name was Virág. (...)_

Ryan scratched his chin. The description seemed to fit. A group of students passed him, glancing at Ryan’s book before leaving. He ignored them, checking his phone again. No texts from Shane and it was getting close to when Ryan had to pick up Jackson and Olivia from school.

He read the next two paragraphs.

> _The Höllenhund was barking throughout the night, it’s cries louder than the wolves of the forest. I knew my sins were forgiven by the town’s priest, but not by satan himself. His hounds were here to drag me down, for what I had committed. I could see them, through my window, shapes of hairy hounds with glowing red eyes. I prayed for an angel to save me (...)_
> 
> \- Excerpt from Geschichten der Hölle by Abelard Becker Müller
> 
> _(...) and two young girls had snuck out last night. Me and sister Lorena did not hear about it until this morning. Their feet were dirty and noses red from the cold, I pray they did not catch illness. Both girls claimed they saw a cão de Caça do Inferno. They spoke about burning dogs and the smell of rotten eggs. Sister Lorena dismissed them. Both girls had to clean the hallroom floor. I remember the fear in their eyes. I know not to believe in the ungodly but what if they were telling the truth._
> 
> \- Excerpt from sister Nelinha of Monastery of St. Benedict 1733

***-***-***

The rest of the day passed by in a rush. Olivia had asked if she could bring Judith and Alice over which was fine with Ryan. Jackson took the chance to hole up in his room, shutting his door promptly.

Ryan made them all pasta with chicken after checking what all the girls liked. He had a bunch of salmon in the freezer but he knew from experience Judith didn’t like fish.

Since Ryan had let the girls watch a movie in the living room he decided to call his mother from the kitchen. He usually called her once a month but with recent changes to his daily routine he had sort of forgotten. He had spoken to her at the funeral last time so he felt it was good enough time giving her a call.

“Come over with the kids, will you? I’ll gladly drag your father to Los Angelos too, honey,” she said and Ryan sighed, but wore a smile.

“I know mom. I’m not sure about my weekend plans yet but maybe I’ll come over next weekend or something,” he suggested and she eventually accepted.

“Oh, I heard from your cousin she’s having an art exhibition next month, on a Friday. Maybe you wanna go?” his mom asked, something about her tone making Ryan suspicious.

“An art exhibition? I mean, sure?” Ryan asked, wondering if there was something more to it.

“Yes, it’s her classmates too, eight of them, all women from the art school. Some have graduated but I saw images online and they look-”

“Alright, I’m hanging up,” Ryan warned, rolling his eyes.

“I’m sorry, baby,” his mother laughed, “but I just don’t want you to be alone.”

“Don’t say alone because I’m not. Olivia and Jackson are plenty,” Ryan stood firm. “I know you mean good mom, but please… just don’t.”

Ryan eventually hung up just in time as the dishwasher finished. He put back the dishes and joined his daughter and her friends on the couch to watch the remainder of some animated movie where jack frost was personified as some white-haired kid. Ryan was too distracted by Hugh Jackman’s voice as the bunny though.

***-***-***

It took Shane another two days before he suddenly called Ryan Friday night.

“Sorry, I’ve been a little busy,” was his explanation.

To prevent sounding like a needy girlfriend Ryan told him it was fine. Olivia had gone to bed but Jackson was probably still up considering the light coming from underneath his door. Ryan threw both legs up on the TV table.

“I did some research on hellhounds since I couldn’t ask you.”

“Oh? What did you find?” Shane asked, Ryan hearing honking in the background.

“Dude, there are so many different kinds,” Ryan groaned and Shane laughed.

“That’s to be expected though. Are you home?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Mhm,” Ryan nodded, a yawn escaping him.

“Tired? I won’t take up your time then,” Shane chuckled on the other end.

“No, it’s fine. Where are you?” Ryan asked, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes. It really wasn’t that late yet, he was only tired because a couple nightmares kept him up last night.

“I’m by the beach,” Shane replied, which was pretty vague. Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“You wanna come over?”

Shane didn’t reply for a good pause and Ryan was about to argue in case Shane declined.

“Sure, man, ” Shane eventually replied.

Ryan dug out his mattress once more, finished in time for Shane texting him he was outside. The chance of Olivia waking up from the doorbell was small but Ryan appreciated Shane’s attempt nonetheless.

Shane turned down Ryan’s offer of food or tea and instead accepted a shower. Meanwhile Ryan went to shoo Jackson to bed. His son must’ve heard the shower and asked if Shane was over again. Ryan nodded and Jackson didn’t question it.

Biting his lip Ryan leaned against Jackson’s closed door afterwards. The hallway was dark apart from the light coming from his own room, the other far away in the kitchen, casting a sharp shadow across his face. Ryan thought about Jackson crying as a child, scared of the creature under his bed. He thought about Olivia’s face when she crawled out from the hidden room under the bleachers, face full of horror. He never wanted to see that again.

Looking up at his ceiling he took a deep breath, entering the kitchen to turn off the last light. Shane could find his way in the darkness. Ryan reminded himself he still needed to buy a new light bulb, or perhaps just a new lamp for his living room. Taking a trip to a furniture store sure seemed a lot easier than possibly traumatizing his children.

His room was dark and his phone read 03:00 on the minute. ‘Witching Hour’ Ryan absently thought. He sat up in his bed, only a pale light coming from his window.

“You awake?” he whispered, his bed too tall for him to see over the edge where Shane slept.

“What’s up?” Shane replied, almost no trace of sleep in his voice.

“Did I wake you? Were you sleeping?” Ryan asked instead, pulling his legs to himself, crossing them.

Shane sat up, meeting Ryan’s eyes. “I have a lot on my mind, Ryan.”

The human slowly nodded.

“I’m still not sure what to do,” he admitted, tying his fingers together.

Almost as expected Shane didn’t reply, just waited for Ryan to elaborate.

“I mean, Olivia is scared of fake guns in movies, and she recently got trapped by a boy with a fucking knife in school. Jackson used to be terrified of Goofy, for Christ’s sake,” he breathed.

“You’re scared about bringing them into this,” Shane clarified and Ryan nodded.

The silence of 3AM LA fell over the room, only distant traffic outside the window of Ryan’s bedroom. The wind was strong tonight, passing through the vents of the apartment, making whispers, singing its song. Ryan shuddered.

“Oblivion is still a viable choice, even after all these years,” Shane said and Ryan looked up, furrowing his eyebrows.

Oblivion? He would forget it all, maybe even Shane. Ryan stared at his open palms, hands resting on his white bed sheet. It appeared almost iridescent in the lack of light.

“No,” he decided, and it wasn’t a tough choice. Oblivion would never be something Ryan would consider, at least he hoped not. He couldn’t account for the far future, but as he stood now he’d rather accept reality than close his eyes and pretend he couldn’t see.

“I’ll tell them,” Ryan settled, voice collected. “Inform me again how these hellhounds will look and act, though.”

Shane tilted his head, eyes shining in the dark.

***-***-***

Since it was Saturday Ryan had let his kids lie in, both getting up around 10 in the morning. It may also be because Ryan himself slept until half past 9. Shane was gone when he woke up, but his bedding still a mess. Ryan found him in the kitchen, with Ryan’s laptop.

“Hey,” Ryan barked, contemplating grabbing it from him. Instead he walked around only to discover Shane watching Youtube videos.

“Please just ask first, man,” Ryan grunted.

“I didn’t want to disturb your sweet sleep,” Shane smiled as the other rolled his eyes.

Ryan made them both coffee, leaning back against the counter.

“I think I have an idea,” Ryan started. “I’ll explain the hellhounds and what they’re there for, but most importantly that they can’t tell anyone about them. I, jesus I just wished I could use another term. ‘Hellhound’ is the most ominous name there is,” Ryan sighed.

“You said you did some research, use one of those terms,” Shane shrugged as he clicked on another animation skit.

“In other languages!,” Ryan hissed. “It doesn’t make sense for me to just say I’m gonna get them this random Hollenhund or… Khob-kun-ka dog or Poochyena or whatever.”

“Is that a Pokemon? Sure sounds like a Pokemon,” Shane laughed.

Ryan placed the two coffee cups on the table, sitting down himself. Shane instantly grabbed for his cup, sipping impatiently.

“Guard dog? Ghost guard dog?” Ryan tried.

“Maybe there’s something similar in the Harry Potter books you can use,” Shane added behind his coffee. Ryan glared at him.

“You said these things are expensive anyway? How much we talking?” Ryan asked instead.

“About 6k for each, but a guy I know owes me a favor. A big favor, so I think I could get it down to like, 3k maybe.”

Ryan started at him. That was still a lot of money.

“Hey, it’s practically cheaper than those big fluffy breeds of dogs,” Shane said.

“It’s… a lot of money, but I think I almost expected it to be more, now that I think about it. I mean they’re mythical creatures from hell,” Ryan frowned.

“Well,” Shane sighed, “we demons ourselves don’t really have much use for them. They won’t serve us because we have nothing to offer. To them their contracts are everything.”

A police siren passed somewhere outside, Ryan briefly glancing out his window.

“The price is set because humans directly buy from demons. It fluctuates every millenia or so because there are only so many hounds alive. They were made a long, long time ago, and there aren’t any more being created, as far as I know. They live eternally but if they all get wiped out they will no longer exist.”

Ryan heard the bathroom door open and close down the hallway.

“You said you, your kind have nothing to offer? Don’t tell me…” Ryan paused, staring at the demon in front of him.

“They don’t consume it, nor will they touch it,” Shane promised but Ryan still felt unsettled.

“So what do you mean then? The human soul offers it’s soul-”

“No,” Shane interrupted him, “the hellhound simply exists in it’s presence, pulled towards the source it guards. I told you this a long time ago; you constantly give off emotions, for lack of a better term. Your soul is not a solid ball inside your chest, man. It’s a small sun with rays of, let’s say light or steam I guess.”

Shane reached forwards, twirling his hand in the air, like he was playing with something Ryan couldn’t see.

“I’m not hurting you, nor am I taking anything from you. It’s just there, and I enjoy it, the feeling, the taste, all that jazz.”

“Do you promise?” Ryan asked, grabbing Shane’s hand. The demon looked surprised, skin cold to the touch.

“I promise,” Shane replied and Ryan wanted to believe it, wanted to nod and say okay. Yet he couldn’t.

Closing his eyes he leaned back in his chair, cursing inwardly. Yesterday’s late night talk, it was all for nothing. Ryan still wasn’t sure he could do it.

“Not enough?” Shane asked. Ryan met his gaze, pressing his lips together, nodding.

“Here,” Shane said, holding out his arm while he rolled up his sleeve. Ryan looked at his arm, unsure what he was supposed to see. Shane had closed his eyes and Ryan felt a bit awkward, not sure what to do.

Then movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. On Shane’s arm something was appearing, as from underneath his skin. Symbols, no, _letters_ were suddenly protruding, like someone was pushing with a stamp from inside.

A small paragraph appeared, the skin straining against the text, whitening with the stretch.

 _Pactum qum Ryan Steven Bergara_ , the title read. The words underneath were slightly smaller, and all written in some serious cursive.

“Shane, what the fuck,” Ryan breathed, starting to panic as he tried to disypher the message. It was clearly in Latin. _'Fucking Latin again'_ , he quickly thought.

“It’s says _pactum_ , it’s not that difficult to guess,” Shane said, though he still looked quite uncomfortable. “It’s the contract you made me do.”

“When you swore?” Ryan asked. Shane nodded as he relaxed back into his seat, the words fading, leaving only red marks. He pulled his sleeve down again, distractedly scratching his arm.

“I will never hurt Olivia Bergara or Jackson Bergara,” Shane repeated. “That also entails getting them in danger.”

Ryan once again remembered the existence of his coffee, taking a big gulp. He set the cup down with a clank.

“Fuck. Okay. I believe you.”

“Good morning,” Jackson suddenly announced from nowhere as he walked into the kitchen, giving his father a look.

Ryan abruptly and not discreetly at all covered his mouth with one hand, tapping his fingers.

“Do as I say, not as I do,” he whispered and his son snickered.

Jackson eventually sat down beside Shane after making his cereal, the two watching videos on Ryan’s laptop, The owner of said laptop felt just a little bit left out.

The weather was nice outside but the remnants of that night’s wild wind still there. As he watered the few plants he owned he spotted some kids playing outside down by the pear tree, their hair dancing in the strong wind. Ryan had gotten word of some local basketball game, wondering if his kids would want to go.

When lunch rolled around he stopped Jackson from bolting after he had finished. Olivia had brought one of her coloring books to the table. Usually Ryan would ask for no crafts when they were eating but he was still too absorbed in his thoughts to call her out on it.

“I have something I need to talk to you about,” Ryan said, and he could practically hear his own heartbeat in his ears. He had cleared away their plates, only the bowl of carrots still on the table. Shane reached for a piece, watching Ryan as well.

Olivia looked up from her drawing.

“So, you’ve learned about Heaven and Hell in school, right?” he begun, figuring it was one possible starting point, even if a bit sappy.

“Heaven is where you go when you die,” Olivia clarified and Ryan slowly nodded. God, she was too young for this, he thought once again.

Jackson was frowning on the other side of the table, confusion evident.

“And from hell there are bad things, bad creatures. Your dad knows about this because he has a friend… on the inside.”

Neither of his kids said anything so Ryan continued.

“So me, and Shane,” he gestured, “want to get you each a protector. In case anything bad ever comes.”

Jackson now looked more worried than confused. “Dad? Are you okay?”

“Ouch,” Shane whispered and Ryan watched him try to conceal a laugh.

“I know it sounds strange, I didn’t believe it at first either, but nonetheless I just want you to be safe. These creatures are guard dogs. But they are not from here, so they might look different.” Ryan knew if he described their appearance as scary he would only fuel their fear, so he tried to downplay it a bit instead.

There was also a backup plan, which Shane had told him about that night. He could still alter their memory after the entire ordeal if it went sideways, make them forget. It wasn’t something Ryan particularly liked the idea of, but it was a plausible way out.

“Guard dogs?” Olivia was the one to ask, her drawing now forgotten on the table.

“Yes, but they’re invisible to everyone but you. They’re made of something that will look like smoke, but they’re there to protect you.”

“And they’re from heaven?” Jackson asked, his son starting to catch on. He still sounded skeptical to the entire thing.

“Not quite, kid,” Shane said beside him.

“Hell?” he tried instead, looking unimpressed.

Shane and Ryan both nodded.

“Like hellhounds?” Jackson asked and Ryan’s eyes widened.

His son flushed under the attention, leaning back slightly. “What? I play video games.”

Shane gave Ryan a comical, pointed look.

“And we have to agree to this? Or what?” Jackson continued.

“Yes, of course. I mean, I want you to be safe, it’s why I’m bringing this up in the first place,” Ryan said, crossing his arms.

Olivia looked at the other three in the room, probably realizing something serious was being discussed.

“And that means you’re from hell then? Are you a demon?” Jackson asked, fully turned to Shane.

Both his children waited expectantly for an answer before Shane slowly nodded.

“Prove it.”

Now that was to be expected. Ryan tensed as he waited for Shane to demonstrate something, hopefully the least scary thing Shane could think of. If the demon made his eyes roll to the back of his skull in front of Ryan’s kids he would bash Shane’s head in with his baseball bat, soaked in holy water for good measure. Then again that would probably also be a rather traumatizing sight.

Instead Shane held his hand out over the table, twirling his finger into the air as black, dark blue smoke suddenly appeared around it. Like a tiny tornado it spun as Shane waved his finger in a circle.

Olivia gasped but Jackson sat silent, eyes wide in shock. Olivia reached forwards, trying to catch some of the smoke, Ryan holding his breath. As Shane made more appear, the shape reaching for Olivia’s outstretched arm, his daughter giggled.

Jackson was still silent, watching his sister play with the demon.

“Aren’t demons supposed to be evil?” Jackson asked and Olivia paused, watching her brother. She turned to her father who Jackson was also looking at.

“Not exactly all, but most of them are. You should never trust them. Shane is the exception,” Ryan nodded towards him.

“Your father is right. There are many bad, bad demons. Ryan has known me for a long time, and I have sworn to never harm any of you, so I couldn’t even do it if I tried.”

The kitchen fell silent after that. Jackson seemed deep in thought, Shane waiting for Ryan to speak while Ryan was waiting for his children to say something. Olivia was staring between the three once more.

“Again,” she then whispered impatiently, reaching across the table. Ryan unknowingly smiled as he watched Shane play slapsies with Olivia once again.

“This feels like a dream,” Jackson eventually said, looking a bit dejected.

“It’s not,” Ryan replied, wistfully smiling at his son.

The rest seemed smoother than Ryan expected. He once again told his children what he knew, that the hounds might look strange but that only they could see them, apart from Shane. He also made them swear not to tell anyone, making sure Olivia did it twice.

“If she tells someone now, at her age, I doubt they’ll believe her anyway,” Shane said, standing in the doorway.

“I know, but if she does when she’s older it might make people think she’s… you know,” Ryan whispered, vaguely gesturing to his head. Jackson was usually pretty quiet, thinking before he spoke. Olivia was the opposite.

An hour. Shane asked for an hour before he returned with the hellhounds. Which was such a bizarre hour, Ryan spending it drawing with his daughter, leg bouncing with anticipation. Olivia was more focused on the whale she was coloring blue and orange.

Somehow it felt more like ten minutes when Shane appeared again, Ryan sidestepping as he walked inside, dragging his shoes on the shoe mat.

“One is bigger,” Shane said, looking slightly annoyed. He was holding both arms out at his sides, like he was holding something invisible. Ryan looked around them but couldn’t see anything, not even a shift of air.

“Uh, like older?” Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, just larger in size. Not sure it matters,” Shane shrugged.

“Give him to Olivia then,” Ryan thought, assuming that would make more sense. He wanted both of them protected equally, but Olivia was younger and smaller.

“They’re both female,” Shane corrected him. With one hand he reached into his front pocket, taking out a roll of paper, handing it to Ryan.

Unfolding it, he discovered it was actually two documents, and oddly enough, written in a language Ryan knew.

“This is English,” he told Shane, surprised.

“I told you. It’s a service for humans,” Shane reminded him.

“Oh, right.”

Ryan read through the contract, written on what looked like standard white printer paper. He had sort of expected some dated parchment written with ink, stained by blood. This was all a bit mundane.

The contract basically said what Shane had already informed him of. There was no mention of the hellhound taking the human’s soul at death or anything similar. Ryan sighed, calling for both his children.

Olivia first appeared, having stayed in the kitchen. She walked up to her father, grabbing for his hand. Jackson come out from his room, phone in hand.

“You ready for this?” Shane asked, but he was looking at Ryan. Jackson nodded but Olivia looked a bit uncertain. Ryan wasn’t sure she understood what they had been talking about earlier.

“They’re gonna have to sign it,” Shane said, nodding towards the documents. Ryan sat them down on the living room table, getting a pen. Jackson was oddly daring, signing his first without much pause. Ryan suspected he might still not believe it was real.

Olivia had most likely never signed anything before and wrote her name in big letters on her paper. Then Shane snapped his fingers.

Both his children spun around, turning towards the living room entrance, eyes wide. As the temperature dropped Ryan held his breath.

***-***-***

“Do you think she knows?” Ryan asked, having kicked off his left sneaker to place his foot on the car seat, knee drawn to his chest.

“That we’re here? Maybe,” Shane hummed, sitting in the driver’s seat. They were parked on Leah Peterson’s street, just a couple houses from her. At the end stood a worn, white house, the yard clean and the lawn cut short. Leah’s house was built a bit further apart from the rest of the buildings, right at the end. It wasn’t a busy street and they were close by to the more shady neighborhoods.

“Can you tell if she’s in there?” Ryan asked, looking at Shane. He couldn’t see much in the house from so far away. Only one light was on but the blinds of that window were drawn.

“Oh, she’s there,” Shane said and something about his tone reminded Ryan of impatience, maybe even hunger. The human shivered, blaming it on the cold night.

“Tomorrow night,” Shane spoke up, turning to Ryan for the first time since he’d parked the car. “at 11 I will come pick you up.”

Ryan nodded, tugging his jacket closer around him as Shane started the car to drive them back home for the night. As they drove away a woman’s face could be seen in one of the windows, watching as the car drove away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Icelandic** Og þinn tími er (miniscule) - and your time is (miniscule)  
> Some words doesn't have a good translation, so I imagine Shane just uses english as a substitute lol
> 
>  **Latin** Pactum qum - Contract with  
> I think it’s actually supposed to be pactum _cum_ but I mean… come on


	6. Chapter 6

Olivia was chewing slowly, having opted for cereal for once. Ryan had put her hair in two ponytails, her black hair almost falling into her bowl as she took a new spoonful.

She was staring off to the side, towards one of the cabinets under the sink, blinking, pausing mid-chew before she’s came back to reality to get another spoon, mind elsewhere.

Ryan bit his nail, staring at her in silence.

“Is… is she doing something, sweetheart?” Ryan gently asked, making himself busy by cleaning off the table.

“Mhm,” Olivia hummed, setting down her spoon to indicate she was finished.

“What is she doing? Remember I can’t see her,” Ryan said, leaning down slightly to try to catch his daughter’s eye.

She did a double take, looking at her father. Then she shrugged, pushing her chair out from the table. “She’s just lying down but I don’t think she’s sleepy.”

Trying to imagine a massive creature like the one Shane had described to him, just lazing around his kitchen floor; Ryan’s mind was struggling to put it together.

“Oh, and she told me her name was Ravit yesterday.”

Ryan felt his heart stop for a second. He couldn’t help to uselessly glance at the spot she was looking at.

“She can talk?”

“She only told me her name, nothing more,” Olivia said, walking up to the spot to reach forwards carefully. Nothing happened, and the next second his daughter skipped out of the kitchen.

Ryan stared after her, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d held in the first place.

His backpack was ready at the door; one packet of salt and two bottles of holy water. Ryan brought his rosary too just in case.

It was still early and Ryan’s nerves for what was to come later that day had him on edge for most of the day. He got both his kids to clean up their rooms to a state he deemed acceptable. For Olivia it mostly consisted of putting her toys back and for Jackson it was his clothes strewn across the room.

“Did she tell you her name too?” Ryan asked his son, Jackson sat by his computer as usual. He didn’t even look away from his screen as he replied.

“Hadassah.”

Ryan scratched his arm.

“I looked it up, meant some sort of tree in Hebrew apparently,” Jackson said, clicking violently with his mouse, his character running across the screen.

“And how- what do you think? Is she scary to have around?” Ryan carefully asked, hands tied in his lap. He could hear Olivia belt it out in the living room, singing along to music videos.

“She looks kinda scary… but she’s very calm,” Jackson told him, looking over his shoulder at his father, then down at his feet.

“Is she… here now?” Ryan asked, looking around the room. It was dark inside and he wanted to roll up the window blinds but he knew that would get complaints from his son.

“Yeah, she stays under my bed mostly,” Jackson said. Ryan, who was sitting on said bed felt a shiver run down his spine.

Clearly his children was taking to the change well. Maybe too well, Ryan suspected. He took out his phone to text Shane.

_‘J &O are accepting the hellhounds a little too well. Are they doing something to them?’_

Neither of his children felt like doing anything on their free Sunday and it ended up being a day spent lazing around the house. Ryan successfully convinced Olivia to help him cook dinner and she shaped the meatballs into perfectly lumpy clouds.

Who decided meatballs should be round anyway?

And eventually night rolled around faster than Ryan had expected. Jackson stayed up until Ryan had to threaten to turn off his computer, around 11pm. Olivia was long gone in dream land, having given herself a good workout with her music video performances earlier.

Ryan sat by his table with his fourth cup of coffee that day, phone in hand, leg shaking under the table. He had only left the counter lights on, the rest of the room dark. The blue shine from outside cast his shadow across the kitchen.

Which shoes would be best? What if they had to run or something. Also, should he have charged his phone? The batter was almost halfway drained. Would he have time to go fetch his charger or would it be futile now?

The next second, as on que, Shane texted.

All it said was ‘ _Outside_ ’.

Ryan grabbed his jacket, his backpack and left the pre-written note on the kitchen table. Both his children had phones, they could reach him in case something happened. To be extra sure he checked all the kitchen appliances were off. He assumed the hellhounds wouldn’t warn if a fire started if they truly only guarded for demonic dangers.

Shane was leaning against Ryan’s car outside, arms crossed.

“You could set off the motion alarm, dude,” Ryan said as he jogged up to him. Shane didn’t reply but gave Ryan a small, knowing smile.

The human wasn’t sure what to interpret that as and handed his friend the keys, getting into the front seat.

It took them a little more than half an hour getting to Leah’s neighborhood again, Shane bringing the car to an abrupt stop as a cat ran across the street. Ryan slapped a hand to his chest, staring at the white kitten running across.

“Fuck,” he breathed as Shane slowly started driving again.

“Is that like a bad omen or something?” Ryan asked, dragging a hand through his hair.

Shane didn’t reply, evidently distracted by something. He was quiet for most of the car ride, only replying when Ryan asked him questions.

Eventually he reached a spot he deemed acceptable and parked the car to the side of the road, on another street than Leah’s.

It was a short walk, Shane taking shortcuts through tight alleyways. They passed a group of young men, people Ryan would’ve definitely taken the long way around to avoid had he been alone. One of them, a boy wearing a plain black cap sat on the concrete barrier leading to a construction site. He lit a cigarette, or something rolled up, his face briefly shining from the fire of his lighter. He looked like trouble.

But as Shane passed the man simply looked down at the ground. Ryan hurried up to Shane, succeeding in not glancing behind him.

“Did you-?” Ryan asked, looking up at his friend.

“We don’t have time for that shit,” Shane mumbled, hands in his pockets, and that was that.

Leah’s house came into view as they rounded the corner, Ryan adjusting one of the straps of his backpack as they came closer.

“She’s definitely expecting us,” Shane said, bringing out his phone to toss it into the air restlessly, something a human would be an idiot to do. On the fourth catch he unlocked the screen to check the time.

“Three minutes,” he announced, settling against a brick fence of one of the houses nearby. His eyes were completely focused on the white house down the street, Shane barely blinking. His attention was clearly elsewhere, like a cat focusing in on something it was hunting.

Ryan released an unsettled sigh, sitting down beside his friend.

“She’s home?”

Shane nodded. “She’s expecting us.”

“And you’re saying it would be futile for her to try to flee somewhere else? Because it kinda feels like you wouldn’t follow her _anywhere_ , like, to the jungles of Fiji or something?” Ryan asked, keeping his voice low. Even though they were quite far from Leah’s house he didn’t want to wake up the neighbors in case they caught sight of them. Ryan assumed this case would end like Gary or Evan; with a dead body. Leah wasn’t an elderly, she couldn’t die of old age. A failed robbery like the scene they left at Evan’s wasn’t as realistic considering the state of her house and presumable financial state.

“If she travels far away someone else will pick up her soul for me. I’d have to pay the person, which would be annoying but it’s worth it,” Shane shrugged.

“Like you picked up Gary’s and Evan’s?” Ryan asked, unknowingly copying Shane’s pose.

“Mhm,” Shane nodded.

Then he turned to Ryan distractedly, his eyes once again having that subtle shine in the dark. “I didn’t take us to her address, I tracked her,” Shane said.

And not for the first time Ryan felt realization hit him, staring up at his friend’s face. It was at times like this, when Shane’s mask was slipping, that his true nature was showing behind the curtain. Something inhumane, something alien and dangerous. The air felt dry around them, adrenaline running through the human. He somehow recalled the moment when he was staring eye to eye with the large boa at the zoo as a child, the eyes of a predator watching him.

It was unsettling, slightly alarming but somehow a bit exhilarating. It reminded Ryan of late night shootings back at Unsolved, creeping around reportedly haunted locations.

“Don’t accidentally eat me, man,” Ryan heard himself whisper, releasing a shaky laugh.

Shane didn’t reply verbally but his face fell into a somewhat familiar smile. It wasn’t quite as comforting as Ryan wished, his stomach tense.

When the clock ticked midnight Shane pushed off the fence, Ryan following behind as they finally walked up to the house. A broken plastic swing hung from one of the trees with only one piece of rope, the blue of the seat faded by years of sunlight.

Her lawn was cut neatly but as they got closer Ryan could see spots of dried grass, a couple bushes almost empty of leaves.

Entering a strangers house for such an ominous reason felt just as weird as last time. Ryan was still worried a group of police cars would round the corner on them, guns raised.

Instead the neighborhood stayed silent and Shane walked right up to the door, staring at the handle for a good couple seconds.

Ryan tried to unsuspiciously glance around them to check for nosy neighbors but when Shane still didn’t do anything he turned to him, trying to catch his face.

“What are you doing?” Ryan hissed, glancing at the handle. It looked like a normal handle.

“I can hear her inside. She’s chanting. And there’s salt on the inside of the door,” Shane said, voice low. Ryan raised an eyebrow. He reached past Shane to tug on the handle. Locked.

Shane’s expression didn’t change however, he simply stepped over the lawn and started rounding the house. Ryan hurried after him, taking a last look at the neighborhood. He heard Shane release a breath, like he was smelling something bad, before walking up onto the porch.

There were a few old apple trees in the yard and the white paint of the wooden porch was almost stripped clean off.

Ryan didn’t have much time to look around as he felt eyes on him, turning to the two glass doors. Inside, right behind the window stood a woman, brown hair in untamed tangles and tufts. She had her arms stretched out at her sides, only wearing a white nightgown and a cardigan, the fabric having fallen off her shoulders, bunched at her outstretched arms.

Her eyes were wild, staring at both of them back and forth. Then she narrowed her eyes at Shane, her mouth moving as she started talking. Ryan couldn’t hear what she was saying even though the glass doors looked thin. Perhaps she was whispering.

Ryan slowly walked up to the window, ignoring his furiously beating heart and checked the lock. Smashing the glass would do the trick but it might attract the unwanted attention of neighbors. He couldn’t see past the door frame around the glass but assumed there was salt there as well.

“Any ideas?” he asked Shane who was still staring eye to eye with the woman, presumably Leah. Ryan did a double take, noticing Shane was eerily smiling now. He looked cocky, like he was amused by her attempts to protect herself.

Shane walked up to the glass, put his palm to it and with the tiniest, almost silent crack the entire window cracked. The pieces stayed in place until Shane lowered his hand slowly towards the ground. Like snowflakes the large shards fell to the ground around them in the same speed as his hand moved, dropping to the floor with subtle clinks.

Leah released a breath of shock, taking a step back. With the glass gone there was only the salt line left.

“Careful,” Ryan heard Shane whisper behind him as he walked over the frame of the door, mindful of the glass. The human assumed it wasn’t the broken shards Shane was warning him about, however.

Leah looked like the movie example of an inmate at a mental asylum. As Ryan stepped inside her house he finally noticed her arms and legs, and what she’d done to them. Red symbols not too unlike the ones Ryan had seen at the demon trap were drawn on her limbs. He really hoped they were drawn on and not carved into her skin.

Holding his breath he gathered himself quickly enough to kick at the salt. Leah must’ve realized Ryan wasn’t a demon and instantly got over her fear as she lunged at him.

One last kick broke the line but not before Leah was on his back, screaming and tugging on his hair. Ryan felt himself run on pure adrenaline and fear as he tried to get his hands into her hair, anything, to pull her off.

With a forceful tug Leah was thrown off him the next second, Ryan falling to the floor with the force. He coughed, losing his breath for a second. Blinking he stared up at Shane who was crouching above him wearing an expression of worry.

“Fuck, are you okay?” Shane asked, hands patting around Ryan’s front.

“Yes, shit,” Ryan pushed his hands off, sitting up. He released a couple coughs, looking around the room. Two frames must’ve fallen off the wall which Shane had inevitably thrown Leah against in his haste to get her off Ryan.

“Just lost my breath,” Ryan croaked, checking for glass shards before standing up. He felt a little winded but brushed it off quickly as he watched Leah round the couch, arms outstretched, her cardigan now gone.

“Leave. You cannot take me,” she hissed, her hands clenching around something invisible, fingers tensing. Ryan assumed she was trying to channel whatever was written on her arms.

“Leah,” Shane spoke, standing up from where he had checked on Ryan. “I never expected you to go this far.”

“It’s not my time yet. I’m young and I’m a child of God’s. He will protect me from evil’s like you,” she said, and Ryan could tell she was trying to believe in her own words but wasn’t quite there.

“Oh, Leah. Is that why you painted occult symbols on your body to trap a demon inside yourself?”

Ryan turned to Shane, staring at him in shock. Leah didn’t say anything but she was clearly listening.

“Nevertheless, we made a fair deal, you and me,” Shane begun, talking a step towards her. “I was even _especially_ kind to you that day. I gave you more years than I should have. And you say the holy G-O-D will protect you yet you’re the one who made a deal with a demon in the first place, hell you even summoned me. Honey, if he existed he would’ve already given up on you.”

Leah glanced behind her as she took a step backwards, her eyes then meeting Ryan’s again. He was clearly a dent in her plan, nothing she had expected.

“And you even thought you could outwit me, little human. That you could get the deal but slip away from paying.”

Ryan felt himself shiver, watching Shane back Leah against the table.

“You see, Leah, I expected you to have found some wayward demon who would help you, someone you might’ve even befriended. But here you are, having instead trapped one. I don’t think whoever it is… is very happy with you.”

Glancing down at his feet Ryan realized the dark smoke had slowly filled the room without him even noticing. It somehow, in a weird way felt familiar now. He dipped his hand down and it curled up around his fingers before falling off like steam.

As he glanced up again his breath caught in his throat. Above Shane’s head, growing from his head were the same two large, ridged horns Ryan had seen several years ago at the crash. Ryan’s concussion-damaged memory had remembered them as pitch black but now, even in the dark of Leah’s house he noticed the other colors. They were a faded sand color at the root, almost blending into his hair. Where the light from outside hit his horns they shifted in that same faded green, almost gold color Ryan saw time after time.

 _‘Davy’s Grey’_ he once more thought.

 _“In nómine Pátris, et Fílii, et Spirítus Sancti,”_ Leah then begun yelling, Ryan jumping at the sudden noise.

She was groaning, holding her ears as she bent over. Ryan realized Shane was holding his ears as well, glaring at the woman. He didn’t look as amused now.

“ _Ex-exsúrgat De… Deus et!_ ” Leah continued but she was clearly struggling. Didn’t Shane say she had trapped a demon inside herself? Was that what the symbols were about? Ryan twisted out of his backpack, grabbing one of the bottles. With shaky hands he removed the cap, running up to the woman.

“Stop it, Leah,” Shane screamed, his volume completely off in the otherwise silent room. Like he was still hearing something, like someone was yelling in his ears, “You’ll kill yourself!”

“ _Dissipéntur in,_ ah,” Leah cried as she continued anyway, falling to her knees. “ _Im-im… imíci ejus-_ argh!”

The water hit her over the head and it had the same effect it would have on Shane, sizzling like acid as stream rose into the air. It clearly wasn’t enough though and Leah continued the prayer through her crying, even with how hard she was struggling.

Ryan wasn’t sure what to do, looking around the room for anything. Without time to spare he simply knocked her down, grabbing a pillow from the couch to hold over her face, to block her mouth. She was instantly struggling, grabbing onto Ryan’s wrists. Her nails were short and almost completely bit off, Ryan managing to keep his hold.

“Shane!” he yelled, trying to look behind him at the demon, finding him still crouching with his hands over his ears.

“Shane Madej,” he tried again, ultimately being pushed off Leah as she got in a kick towards his hip.

“You,” Leah breathed, panting for breath as she struggled to her feet. “You’re human. Wh-what has he done to you?”

“He’s my friend, bevelie it or not,” Ryan grunted, backing towards Shane again. He placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to straighten him up. The demon’s eyes opened with a snap, instantly finding Leah in the room.

“Friend?” She asked in confusion, one eyebrow raised, something close to disgust on her face.

“What can I say? He makes a mean pasta,” Ryan tried awkwardly.

Shane felt cold at his side where they touched and the energy he gave off made Ryan take a cautious step back. Even a blind person could tell Shane was pissed.

With a twist of his wrist Leah’s mouth suddenly shut close, her eyes wide in fear as she started grabbing at her own face, trying to force her lips apart.

“Ryan, close your eyes.”

The lights started flickering around them, light bulbs popping one after the other, Ryan involuntary jerking with each sound.

Shane walked up to her, placing one hand on her chest and the next second she was completely still. Slowly he pressed her onto the sofa table, her back against the surface, arms hanging limp at her sides.

Ryan didn’t close his eyes.

His curiosity was too strong for that, his fingers twitching at his sides. Instead he watched as Shane leaned over her, turning his head like he was checking for something.

Then the temperature of the room dropped. Ryan shuddered in the cold, arms wrapping around himself as he couldn’t look away. A second voice in his head was worried he would see something horrifying, his stomach unsettled, maybe preparing to throw up if it was needed.

But instead Ryan suddenly felt a calming feeling crawl over him, up his legs, around his waist, nipping at his wrists. He briefly glanced down with sleepy eyes, watching the dark smoke grab onto him, only falling down as he looked at it. Like it was trying to do it discreetly.

As he raised his head again, slowly blinking, he watched Shane open his mouth wide, right above Leah’s still face. Her eyes were closed but her lips slowly parted. It even looked intimate, maybe even passionate by the way Shane was gripping at the table. But as Ryan narrowed his eyes he could see the sharp claws, dark as soot, the color continuing up his hands to his wrists.

Then a small light slowly filled the room around them, beginning in Leah’s throat as it moved up. Ryan remembered when Jackson would stuff a flashlight in his mouth, how the light would still show through his cheek, his veins visible, Olivia giggling at her older brother.

Ryan felt his stomach tighten as he watched the light, just a small shining sphere leave her lips, her body releasing one last breath.

Just a second later the light was gone as Shane snapped his teeth closed around it, Ryan jumping with the sudden motion. He knew what the item was, what the light was but it was still difficult to process.

But with the sleepiness falling heavier over him Ryan didn’t care too much. No, not sleepiness; he felt drugged, like he was about to undergo surgery and the doctor had administered a sedative.

“ _Tibi gratias ago pro dono,_ Leah Johanna Peterson,” he vaguely heard Shane whisper and Ryan felt his eyelids drop, trying weakly to force them open. His head nodded as he tried desperately to wake himself up, trying to not submit to the sleep that his body suddenly called for.

Somewhere in front of him he heard a low laugh, assuming it was Shane. He thought he heard someone else speak, frowning a little as his head tilted to the side. Just a quick rest. Then a hand crawled under his jaw, holding his head up. Ryan opened his eyes, staring into the demon’s face.

His eyes were white once more, looking inhuman, alien above him. Ryan’s knees shook before his legs failed him, giving in to the sleep. He was quickly caught however, moved into one of the chairs.

“Sorry, I didn’t intend to affect you too,” Shane said, still sounding amused. He tilted Ryan’s head up again, whispering something into his hair.

With a loud inhale Ryan was wide awake again, gripping the chair to steady himself as he gasped for air. It was almost like he’d been underwater.

Coming back to reality he looked around the room, the place disheveled from their tussle, the window still smashed. Shane stood above him, looking towards the couch table which Ryan discovered empty, his blood running cold. He didn’t have time to question what the roofie had been about as he stared at the spot Leah’s body had just been.

“Had she died naturally she would’ve been a fucker in hell,” someone spoke and Ryan turned his head towards the couch only to watch Leah stand up, rubbing at her face like she was having a bad hangover.

Ryan stared wide eyed at her as he quickly got to his feet, the chair falling to the floor behind him.

“Fucking cunt,” Leah hissed as she looked down at her body at the symbols and signs, twisting har arm to get a look.

“The trap is incomplete, you can leave,” Shane said, looking at Leah.

The woman looked up, glancing at the two of them, tilting her head at Ryan. She had a different energy about her, not only in the tone of her voice but also in the way she held herself; her posture.

Then she snapped her finger in the air like she remembered something.

“You were at the Battle of Vyazma, weren't you?” Leah asked, staring at Shane.

Shane simply raised his eyebrow at Leah.

“You were,” she said, excitement evident in her voice. “You were Mikhail Miloradovich’s advisor, I remember you.”

“You were there too?” Shane asked, crossing his arms, not even sounding half as enthusiastic as Leah who Ryan was starting to understand was not really Leah. Was she soulless? Or…

 _The demon,_ Ryan remembered.

Shane had said Leah had trapped a demon in her. It had to be this one speaking now, considering she was referring to some historic event Ryan was pretty sure Leah hadn’t been in.

“I was just a soldier, jumping in here and there to promise health and shit to their families. They didn’t want us to do too many contracts.”

“I see,” Shane said, walking over to one of the chairs that had fallen over by the kitchen table. He picked it up only to watch one of the legs fall off.

“Thanks for not eating me too, by the way,” she gestured to her chest, awkwardly slapping her own breast in the move. Ryan felt like this would be one of the definitions of ‘ _defiling a corpse’_. Then again, with that rule, so was Shane.

“But I admire your work, though. I heard about you in Egypt during-”

“Okay,” Shane interrupted her “thanks, but that’s alright.”

Leah held up her hands in defence, looking a little offended. Then she looked down at her body again. “Well, hit me up if you’re planning anything fun in the future. I’ll stage a suicide for this bitch. It’s what you were planning, right?” she asked, still ignoring Ryan completely.

“Yeah, sure. There’s a dam out that way if you want to drown,” Shane gestured towards the broken glass door.

“I should get back down though, I’ll do OD in her bed,” Leah said, hands on her hips.

“Wait, give me a couple fingerprints first,” Shane said, grabbing the notepad from the counter. He flipped to a clean page, holding it up for the demon. She pressed her thumb against the notepad, looking bored out of her mind.

“And wash of the symbols first,” Shane said, looking her up and down.

“Yeah, yeah. See ya,” she waved behind her as she took the stairs, two steps at a time. Ryan could hear her footsteps above them, the floorboards creaking.

“That… was the demon, right? She wasn’t soulless?” Ryan asked, watching Shane pop the chair leg back on.

“What?” Shane asked, looking up. “Oh, yeah, it was the one she trapped,” he explained.

The room was back to it’s normal temperature with the warmth of California outside, but it still somehow felt like it belonged to another world. Ryan was sure the neighbors must’ve heard something by all the screaming.

“You smudged out some of her symbols when you wrestled her to the floor”

“Wrestle- I did not wrestle her,” Ryan gasped.

“You did a whole WWE scene, Bergara,” Shane laughed.

Ryan released a sound in annoyance, crossing his arms.

“Well, it was enough to break the trap. Really, an incredibly foolish thing to do in the first place; try to trap a demon _inside_ her own body. I’m impressed she succeeded but I guess it was only bound to go one way,” he sighed.

“You good now, though?” Ryan asked, watching Shane walk up to the patio door. “You almost got exorcised, man.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he responded before raising his hand, the glass climbing up the door to attach itself to the frame again, like it had never been broken in the first place.

“Ryan, I’m still paying you half of what it would’ve been worth,” Shane said as he turned around. His horns were still present and intimidating above him, and so were his claws at the end of his fingers. If Ryan ever needed a reminder of what Shane really was he would try to remember this moment.

“What? Why? Did you only eat half her soul?” Ryan asked, still feeling a bit on edge. He was pretty sure he had watched the entire thing disappear behind Shane’s lips.

“No?” Shane asked like Ryan had given him a stupid question. “But we both did the job, so I owe you half of the pay.”

“Wait? You mean like just out of your own money?” Ryan asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes, we agreed on 50-50, don’t suddenly argue,” Shane said, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Ryan said nonetheless, dropping his arms to his sides. If he understood correctly Shane wanted to give him half of what Leah’s soul _would’ve_ been worth had he pawned it for human money. Which meant Shane had to take from his own pocket.

Shane tilted his head, one of his horns almost hitting the shelf behind his head. “No?”

“No,” Ryan confirmed. “I will not accept it. Don’t venmo me money, I don’t want it.”

“...And why is that?”

“Because it’s food for you, right? Energy? Or whatever, it doesn’t matter. I don’t need the money for this month, okay? It’s fine.”

“That wasn’t our deal though.”

“Well, it is now. If you venmo me money for it I’ll decline it, or send it back.”

Shane narrowed his eyes at him and once more Ryan felt a shiver run down his spine, but he stood his ground. Then he got an idea.

“Happy birthday?”

Shane blinked. “Happy what now?”

“Yeah, sure. Happy birthday, think of it as a gift,” Ryan said, smiling.

“It’s… it’s not my birthday,” Shane slowly said.

“But it’s probably close to one of your past lives’s birthdays, right? Someone’s gotta have a September birthday. Maybe that Russia dude Leah’s demon was just talking about, huh?”

Shane stared at him for a second, face blank but it was clear he was out of words. Then he rolled his eyes, dragging a hand over his face.

“Fine,” he mumbled and Ryan pressed his lips together. “Only because I’m in a good mood.”

“Oh?” Ryan asked distractedly. He picked up the bottle of holy water, finding the lid close by as well, screwing it shut. He stuffed it in his backpack, drying his hands on his pants.

“Mhm. I still feel fucking amazing,” Shane grinned and as he did Ryan realized he had fangs. He let his vision travel up to the horns again, the curled shape reminding Ryan of some sort of sheep.

“How did you put it? Tastes like an orgasm, right?” Ryan asked, crossing his arms. The adrenaline was still there; his pulse still going high.

“Even better,” Shane whispered.

Ryan shuddered, shaking his head. He watched Shane start to rummage through the drawers, Ryan’s eye catching something behind him, turning around.

Before him on the wall hung a painting depicting a house, an old manor with autumn colored trees growing around in a planned pattern. A sundial was the focus of the picture, it’s arrow pointing left, a large black crow sitting on the end. It’s eyes were reflected in the light, the bird appearing almost real where it looked towards the viewer of the painting.

Ryan glanced to the right where a horseshoe hung, having spun around upside down. He knew it meant something about bad luck, and it wasn’t the first time recently. Perhaps they were bad omens, perhaps they were not. All the small things he had noticed, maybe he was just being superstitious. It wouldn’t be the first time someone called him that.

Ryan carefully put the horseshoe back upright, making sure it was in place.

Turning around Ryan walked over to Shane who had apparently found what he had been looking for. Taking out a pen the demon put the notepad down, tipping the pen back and forth in thought.

“Davy’s Grey,” Ryan said, not having realized he’d spoken aloud at first.

“What?” Shane asked, confusion evident on his face.

“The, uh, color of your horns in the light. The shade of your smoke-form thing,” Ryan mumbled, looking off towards the side. Why had he said that?

“My _smoke-form_ thing?”

“Whatever, your demonic fog of iniquity,” Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Ryan... what the fuck is Davy’s Grey?”

“Oil color,” Ryan laughed, walking up to Shane.“My mom used to paint. Oils and acrylics and stuff. It was my- one of my favorite shades.”

Shane observed him for a moment, then nodded. “Sure.”

Ryan gathered a bit of courage and reached up to trail a hand down one of the horns. They weren’t warm nor cold to the touch. The ridges were rock hard, a pattern decided and designed by someone, something. The horns reminded Ryan of a sheep or goat’s horns, apart from the odd color.

“That’s fucking something, isn’t it?” he whispered, grinning as Shane scoffed at him.

Shane bumped his head to the side, Ryan letting his hand fall.

“You think the neighbors heard us, by the way?” Ryan asked, looking out the kitchen window. The blinds were drawn but Ryan could see between them, only seeing the corner of one of the buildings. “You two were yelling all over the place earlier.”

“If I recall you were screaming my name too,” Shane said, still spinning the pen in his hand. “But even if they did, so what. The cops haven’t showed up so who cares,” Shane shrugged.

Finally placing the pen at the top of the paper, Shane took a deep breath. Then he closed his eyes and started to write.

“What are you doing?” Ryah wondered aloud.

“Shut up,” Shane whispered, furrowing his eyebrows. He continued to write with both eyes closed.

The writing was neat and the letters a pretty accurate cursive, nothing like Shane’s messy notes back when they worked at Unsolved.

However, reading the actual words told Ryan what it was.

A suicide note.

He watched Shane finish the message by signing it ‘Mom’.

“Won’t her daughter realize it’s not Leah who wrote the note? Surely she would recognize… her handwriting…” Ryan trailed off before he sighed. “It’s her handwriting, isn’t it?”

Shane smiled, like a child proud of their drawing. “Yup.”

Ryan glanced at the fridge but couldn't see any previous notes Leah would’ve written that Shane could copy off of. Shane answered the question for him before Ryan could even ask.

“Your handwriting counts as a memory, as a characteristic of you,” he said, tapping his lips once.

“That’s,” Ryan breathed, “yeah sure, man.”

Shane placed the note in the middle of the kitchen table, adjusting it once. Placing his hands on his hips he then looked around the room.

“Would the daughter remember you? From the hospital way back then?” Ryan asked, picking up his backpack.

“No, she was asleep.”

Ryan unlocked the patio door, stepping over the broken salt line.

“Oh, want me to fix the line again?” he asked, looking down.

“Wait, give me a second,” Shane said, twisting his hand in the air, the black fog appearing around his feet again. Ryan hadn’t even noticed when it had disappeared earlier.

Looking out towards the garden Ryan released a sigh. He tried to imagine how he would react if he went home only to find his mother dead. Leah certainly didn’t seem stable but that was considering the demon contract in the first place.

But on the other hand her daughter had gotten a life. She had been on death bed and she was saved. It was a life for a life. Then of course, Leah’s daughter would never know that. At least Ryan assumed Leah was sane enough to not tell her daughter. Nothing around the house indicated Leah had been some sort of satanist or witch or whatever. From what Ryan gathered she had otherwise just been a normal, desperate mother.

Would Ryan have tried to outsmart a demon? If he made a deal? Probably.

Shane walked outside behind him, horns and claws gone and Ryan couldn’t help but to release a breath of relief. The demon nodded for Ryan to once again complete the salt line. Ryan tried to close the salt container as well as he could afterwards before putting it back in his backpack, the chance it might leak pretty high. He should’ve brought a bag to put it in just to make sure.

As they passed around the front lawn Ryan was sure he saw a curtain move on the second floor of one of the houses on the left side, his stomach turning.

“Shane,” he whispered but the demon was already heading that direction, most likely twice as observant, _at least._

“Wait outside,” he told Ryan before he jumped up, grabbing onto the waterspout. The metal whined a little but luckily didn’t give, Ryan watching from the ground. Shane easily pushed the window open, jumping inside.

Ryan only heard a weak sound of someone being startled, then silence.

He tried to look inconspicuous as he leaned against the wall, taking out his phone. It was still not 1am yet. He thought about his kids and suddenly got worried; maybe Olivia had woken up, scared of the big hellhound in her room. Perhaps her dog also slept under the bed. Ryan bit his lip.

Shane appeared in his vision a millisecond before he landed on both feet, giving Ryan a near heart attack. The human tried to play it off by stretching his arms about his head.

With a small smile Shane nodded back towards the street.

“What did you do, spider-man?” Ryan asked, keeping his voice down.

“Just altered her memory,” Shane assured him, resuming their walk back to the car.

***-***-***

When Shane parked Ryan’s car at his apartment he tossed him his keys. He leaned over the hood of the car, looking at Ryan.

“You wanna come up?” Ryan asked, fidgeting with the keys in his hand.

Shane let out a slow sigh. “Nah, I’ve got some things to deal with. But text me if you wanna meet,” he said, pushing off the car. Ryan was once again worried he would set off the car alarm but nothing happened.

“Bye,” Ryan called, watching Shane wave over his head before stuffing both hands in the pockets of his jacket, rounding the corner.

***-***-***

Ryan didn’t sleep much in the end, even though he got home relatively early.

He took a quick shower first, trying to rub off the red paint Leah had gotten on his denim jacket. Ryan desperately hoped it would come off, leaving it to soak in a bucket for the night.

Both his kids were sound asleep as he checked in on them. Jackson was a bundle of sheets in his room while Olivia was sleeping with one arm and one leg outside the bed frame. Gently tucking her in Ryan smiled down at his daughter, kissing her forehead. She didn’t wake up, only snored a little, busy dreaming about something.

When 7AM rolled around Ryan felt like pure shit as his alarm blared alive right next to him. He managed to snooze for five minutes before he got up with the second alarm, unlocking his phone.

He had received an email from his old job, waking up a little further with the surprise. It was only to discover it was a simple newsletter thing, however. Ryan hastily clicked to unsubscribe, brought to their old website he had visited so many times. He had to answer why he was unsubscribing and chose the option _'I am not interested in the content anymore'._ He wished there was a more passive aggressive option but he wasn’t about to press “ _Other_ ” and leave a message about being unfairly fired.

Tiredly wandering into the bathroom Ryan yawned loudly, scratching his chest. He had completely forgotten about the jacket, taking it out only to discover a persistent streak of red across the elbow.

“God fucking damn it,” Ryan grunted, catching sigh of himself in the mirror. He had certainly seen better days. Dropping his jacket back into the bucket he went to clean his face, the cold water at least feeling amazing on his skin.

He could hear the footsteps before Olivia appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, looking ten times as awake as Ryan probably did.

“I lost another tooth!” she exclaimed, holding a small white tooth in between two of her fingers for her father to see.

Ryan felt himself smile, bending down to admire her work. “Good job, honey.”

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna put it under my pillow,” she said, too excited to speak properly, dashing back out again.

Ryan stood up with a short laugh, watching her disappear around the corner. He wondered if he had any dollars in his wallet or if he’d need to do a withdrawal in the name of the tooth fairy today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Latin**  
>  Tibi gratias ago pro dono - Thank you for the gift
> 
> Leah doesn't finish the prayer, but here's the full translation:
> 
> In nómine Pátris, et Fílii, et Spirítus Sancti.  
> Exsúrgat Deus et dissipéntur inimíci ejus: et fúgiant qui odérunt eum a fácie ejus.  
> Sicut déficit fumus defíciant; sicut fluit cera a fácie ígnis, sic péreant peccatóres a fácie Dei.
> 
> In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.  
> Let God arise and let His enemies be scattered: and let them that hate Him flee from before His Face!  
> As smoke vanisheth, so let them vanish away: as wax melteth before the fire, so let the wicked perish at the presence of God.


End file.
